Back to the Mat
by daccu65
Summary: Sequel to 'Ron Goes to the Mat.’ Kim and Ron start their new relationship while the techno-villain community struggles to adjust to the fallout from Drakken’s Diablo attack. Chapter 51 added. It's done folks!
1. Traveling Commercial

_Author's foreword._

_First, I do not own Kim Possible, or any of the other characters in this story. This story is not intended for profit, merely for the enjoyment of those reading it. (I hope that you, the reader, enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it.)_

_This story is a continuation of my first, multi-chapter story, 'Ron Goes to the Mat.' If you haven't read this story, I urge you to do so before continuing with this one. Some of the original characters and references to previous events in this story will make more sense, and hopefully be more enjoyable, with the background provided by this earlier work._

_I thank all of you for reading, and I ask you to leave a review so that I can improve my writing._

_A big thank-you to Joe Stoppinhem for Beta reading._

Chapter 1: Traveling Commercial

"Hey KP, since we have a layover, want to look around?"

Kim set down the magazine she had been reading and smiled at the blonde teenager who had asked her the question. Ron Stoppable filled several roles in her young life. He was her best friend of twelve years, her mission partner of over five years, and her boyfriend of two weeks. He was also making a good suggestion, pointing out one thing by suggesting another. What he was really saying was 'we'll be sitting enough during our Denver to Honolulu and Honolulu to Tokyo flights. Why don't we stretch our legs while we can?' Kim was forced to agree.

Tucking her magazine into her backpack, she linked arms with him and joined him on a ramble through the concourses of Denver International Airport. It was a surprisingly fresh experience for them. While the two had crossed the globe several times over the last few years, they seldom flew commercial. Most of their international travel had been conducted in government, shipping or private aircraft. As a result, they either didn't have to wait for their transportation at all, or they had to wait in primitive conditions. With two hours before takeoff, they had plenty of time to take in the sights.

As was usual for her, heads turned in her direction; fingers pointed at her, and people whispered to each other while looking at her. Fortunately, the early weekday hour meant that most of their fellow travelers were business travelers. Such travelers were more interested in making a connecting flight than interacting with a teenage celebrity. But still, she knew that a few cameras and cell phones were taking pictures of them.

Them…

Kim thought back to the two of them getting together. Although it wasn't really a romantic 'coming together', she had to admit that it was probably the best one. There were no agonized confessions under duress or any other dramatic actions. Instead, it had been the two of them, behind the gym, telling each other their hopes and fears. The wonderful thing was that both of them hoped for something more than friendship. The drama had come later when the two of them, both thinking the other to be dead, suddenly found themselves face to face.

Kim smiled thinking of the rest of that night. Ron's scalp wound had required several stitches, but no transfusion and no overnight stay at the Medical Center. Both Mr. Stoppable and Mr. Possible had shown up while Ron was still receiving treatment. Kim hadn't had a chance to talk to Ron before her father dropped the two Stoppables off at their own home. Upon arriving at the Possible home, Kim found out that her mother was at the Stoppables' house, keeping Ron's mother company while Ron and his dad were gone. Her father had told Kim to get cleaned up and dressed. When she was finished, her father took her to Ron's house where, despite the late hour, both sets of parents had sat the teens down next to each other (Ron had gotten cleaned up as well) and demanded a full accounting of the night. While what Monkeyfist and Motor Ed had attempted shocked them, all four parents seemed overjoyed by the teens' choice to get together.

The next day, the two fathers had met with Ron and the two mothers had met with Kim. It wasn't something that either teen had expected. After all, there had been no such meetings when Kim had dated Josh, or Ron had dated Sue. The parents had laid down some ground rules about curfews and behavior. While she never asked Ron what the fathers had told him, some of **her** conversation had set her to blushing. It wasn't until the next weekend that Kim found out how smart the 'rents were in bringing this up when they did.

The next several days hadn't given the teens any real opportunities to explore their new relationship. They had finals at school, the media was following Kim like a pack of vultures, Yori was still staying with the Stoppables and the teens had just received their 'surprise' invitations to visit Yamanouchi. About the only outward change in their behavior was that they spent the week walking arm in arm whenever they went anywhere together. They also shared quick, discrete kisses when Ron showed up at the Possibles' house in the morning and when Kim left his house after their afternoon workouts. The moderate, visible affection the teens shared fueled a wide range of media speculation.

On Wednesday, Yori received her official recall to Yamanouchi. She spent a last day with her new friends from Middleton and a last training session with Kim and Ron. She spent the afternoon attacking the two of them, honing their teamwork. The next morning the Stoppables, joined by Kim, took Yori to the airport to say their good-byes. Surprisingly, at least to everyone but Yori, Felix met them at the airport. Two teens and two adults became rather wide-eyed when the Japanese girl kissed Ron's best male friend's cheek. Yori had then stepped back and paused before giving Felix a quick peck on the mouth. She then turned around and passed through security. Felix had looked smug, in a shy sort of way, for the rest of the day.

Friday was a short school day with a last assembly just after lunch. Vice Principal Steve Barkin had urged everyone to attend the graduation ceremony the next day and to have a safe, fun summer. After dismissing the rest of the students, Mr. Barkin had called Kim and Ron into his office for a short meeting. During this time he stressed how important it would be for the two of them to conduct themselves in a professional manner in Japan. They were ambassadors of sorts and needed to project a proper image. Then he smiled and told them to enjoy themselves, but not too much. Kim and Ron blushed all of the way out of the school.

Kim and Ron had attended the traditional 'end of the school year' party up at Lake Middleton Recreation Area. They behaved themselves, since there were entirely too many people with cameras at the festivities. By tradition the underclassmen left at sundown, leaving the senior class one last get together around a large campfire. The two teens went to Kim's house and had a typical 'Kim and Ron' Friday. They ended it in a very non-typical way, spending a good twenty minutes 'saying good night' on the Possibles' front step.

The next day they attended the graduation ceremony and said their good-byes to the senior class. Among those who were leaving were Brick Flagg, Josh Mankey, and two cheerleaders, Hope and Marcella. Although Kim had been determined to enjoy her summer, her first one with a serious boyfriend, she wondered what the upcoming fall would hold in store for her squad. Julie would probably move up from mascot duties to become a regular cheerleader. This left an additional cheerleader slot, as well as the mascot duties, open. She had resolved to not worry about it until the next fall.

That evening Kim and Ron went out on their first 'real' date as a 'real' couple. They caught a movie, a late dinner at Riverna's, and a quiet walk in the park. For the first time since telling each other how they felt, they found themselves alone in a secluded location. Kim had thought that their first date would be rather awkward, but they were so incredibly comfortable with each other that their will power, or won't power, was put to the test. In the end, both of them were flushed, short of breath and a little scared about what had almost happened. They called it quits for that night and met up for a very honest discussion the next day.

"Hey KP," Ron's voice brought her out of her reverie. "You've almost got the clean sweep."

Ron gestured towards the magazine rack in a bookstore. Almost all of the news and celebrity magazines had a picture of her on the cover. Only two included him. Kim looked at Ron and could tell that it didn't bother him in the slightest. Ron had almost always enjoyed seeing her receiving praise more than receiving it himself. This was true even before an incident involving a so-called investigative reporter with questionable ethics. Seeing that his lack of coverage didn't bother him, she took a closer look at some of the headlines.

The news periodicals were fine, concentrating on the fallout from Drakken's diablo attack and Fisk's actions at Middleton High. The one such magazine that showed the two of them sported the headline: '_Team Possible, How Do They Do It?_' Underneath their picture, the caption read, '_Investigating the dynamic behind Team Possible._'

"They forgot Wade and Rufus." Ron commented.

Kim agreed with her boyfriend, but was too pleased that the magazine had acknowledged him as her teammate to complain. She made a mental note to give **that** magazine an interview before any of the others. She then looked at the celebrity magazines.

She didn't much care for these, as they were more concerned with her appearance, her choices in clothing, makeup and her hairstyle. One cover showed the two of them. It must have been taken during the last week of school, since it showed the two of them walking arm in arm. The headline read, '_Are they a Couple?_' Under the picture, the caption read_, 'Why would Kim Possible date her sidekick, and how long before she comes to her senses?_' Kim saw red.

"Relax, Kim," Ron said, unlinking his arm and putting his palm on her back in a calming gesture. "It's just a gossip rag. Nothing to get up tight about."

Kim looked at her boyfriend. The headline reflected his greatest fear, that she would meet someone 'better' and leave him behind. The headline bothered him. He was good at hiding it but twelve years of friendship gave her the ability to spot when something got to him. Unfortunately, she couldn't tell just how bad he felt. He could still hide the extent of his disquiet from everybody.

_It doesn't matter how much this bothers him, _she thought. _He's your boyfriend now. It's your job…no it's your privilege to deal with this_.

She spun towards him and clamped her arms around his waist. As he was a couple of inches taller than she was, (When had **that** happened?) she had to tilt her head up to look him in the eyes.

"Ron Stoppable," her voice was firm, even whispered as it was. "You get that thought out of your mind right now! I'm not going to drop you for some handsome face, just like you're not going to drop me for some nice figure. We've been through this, remember?"

"I know KP, it's just…" his voice tapered off.

"You wish that they wouldn't dismiss you out of hand like that," Kim finished for him.

"Yeah," he replied. "I know I shouldn't let it bother me. I've still got a lot of growing up to do…"

Her finger on his lips silenced him.

"A teenager with a lot of growing up to do," she mused. "Imagine that! Now, a teenager who **realizes** that he has some growing up to do, that's unusual." She removed her finger from his mouth, wrapped that hand around his neck and pulled him down to kiss him. It was their first kiss in public, so they kept it short. Sort of.

"I'm thinking of buying a copy of that rag," she explained. "Just so we can pull it out of storage on our silver anniversary and laugh about it."

**That** caught Ron by surprise. Kim smiled at the way his eyes flew open.

"KP, I…" Ron stammered. "I mean, do you really think..?"

"We both have a lot of growing up to do," Kim answered him. "And I think we're still going to have some rough times. It's a long way off, but I really see us heading that way."

"I like that thought," was his simple reply.

Kim gave him a last squeeze before linking arms again and resuming their ramble. She had meant what she had said. Even though they had been dating for only two weeks, Kim already considered Ron her most serious boyfriend and had no doubt that he considered her his most serious girlfriend. Twelve plus years of almost inseparable friendship had a profound effect on their new relationship. While she had enjoyed dating Josh and a couple of other boys, she had never really thought much about what could become of it. Now, with Ron, she was looking forward to a future together.

* * *

"Milord, you must pay attention," Bates urged his employer. "We have obtained the services of one of the finest criminal defense attorneys in the world but he needs you to speak to him."

Lord Montgomery Fisk forced his head up from his habitual contemplation of his clasped hands resting in his lap. The small conference room in the Colorado State Penitentiary was hardly luxurious. He sat on one side of a thick, Plexiglas barrier while his butler and attorney sat on another. Fisk had no doubt that this meeting was being observed on camera and the conversation recorded, but he couldn't rouse his mind enough to care.

"What difference does it make?" He asked the two men. "My goals are forever beyond my reach. Young Stoppable has mastered the Mystical Monkey Power and the novice has become formidable. I will certainly be incarcerated for a number of years, during which time Ronald will increase his mastery. I have little doubt that the young man will dominate the world by the time I am free."

"Lord Fisk," Mr. Longwind, defense attorney, addressed his client. "I don't know anything about such powers, but you're facing some serious charges. Let's start with the state and local charges. You're facing attempted murder of one Ronald Stoppable, four hundred and twenty charges of reckless endangerment for trapping the dance attendees in that gymnasium and you parked your car in front of a fire hydrant. At the federal level, you have witness-tampering charges for attacking Stoppable, conspiracy to witness-tamper one Kimberly Possible and you're facing twenty-two charges of bringing unregistered animals into the country. To make matters even worse, Ed Lipsky has copped a plea. He's going to testify against you in return for reduced charges."

Longwind paused to look at his indifferent client before continuing. "Now, your fingerprints are all over that sword, so the best we can do is try to drop the attempted murder charge to assault with a deadly weapon. We will try to convince the jury that you intended to leave one exit open in the gym and that you didn't recognize an American style fire hydrant. We will stress that you had no control over Ed's actions inside the gym and point out that all of your monkeys were fully immunized."

"To be honest," Longwind concluded. "I don't hold out much hope for beating any of the charges. I must counsel you to try for the best plea bargain that you can. I'm prepared to discuss this with y-"

"Meaningless gibberish!" Fisk interrupted him. "Do what you will! I have devoted my life to obtaining the Mystical Monkey Power and it is now beyond my grasp. I have lost the most precious thing in the cosmos, the thing that would have allowed me to dictate the very function of the world! I no longer care if I live, die, have liberty or are permanently incarcerated! GUARD! We are finished here!"

Bates stared, dumbfounded as prison guards led his employer out of the room. Then he accompanied Longwind out of the facility. Longwind struggled to hide a self-satisfied smirk.

"I daresay," he addressed the attorney once they left the building. "You seem quite pleased with yourself, considering how the meeting ended."

"I don't think that it could have ended any better," Longwind agreed.

"I do not understand," Bates confessed.

"That meeting was both filmed and recorded," Longwind explained. "And the recordings are a matter of public record. We'll be able to use them to get your employer judged mentally incompetent to stand trial. Magical Monkey Power! The judge will listen to this ramble, as well as what he's said in our earlier meetings and conclude he needs help. We'll get him the therapy he needs, as well as a shorter sentence."

"You planned this?" Bates asked.

"My job is to represent my client," Longwind assured the butler. "You are paying me a great deal of money and I intend to earn every penny. Fisk needs psychiatric help, not a jail cell. It's my job to get him what he needs."

* * *

"I thought these guards were supposed to be tough," Shego swaggered to the Officer of the Watch. "They look like they're ready to wet themselves." Her boisterous words concealed the fact that she was nervous. Of course, being held in an ultimate security prison, specially constructed to hold 'enhanced' villains, didn't help her state of mind.

"Lady, just speak your piece." The officer, Shego thought the uniform made him a Marine Corp Major, didn't appear to be one to dwell on niceties.

"Okay, green boy," the mercenary tried to keep her voice at a bored drawl. "First of all, I've only had four meetings with my lawyer since I've been here and I'm pretty sure that these guards waggling their heaters at me violates my civil rights." She then raised her hands, which were encased in exotic, polymer mittens. "And these little things are giving me a rash. So what do I have to do before someone does something about my complaints?"

The Major looked at her for what seemed like a long time.

"Okay, lady," he finally said. "You're trying to make your little scene, trying to play us all. I'm not even going to waste my time by telling you that it won't work. Instead, let's deal with your bitching."

"First," he continued, extending a finger to count off the point. "Your lawyer. International law gives you one meeting a week until your formal charges. You did know that you're officially a prisoner of war, didn't you? You're being tried for war crimes, so not all of the civilian, constitutional protections apply to you. After you plead innocent or guilty, then you get daily meetings. Once the World Court gets done with you, you're going to face US Federal charges. After that, about eighty other nations are queuing up to extradite you to face charges. Then after that, you're going to be facing State and Local charges, assuming that you haven't been executed, or died of old age during the proceedings."

"Secondly," now two fingers were up. "The weapons. We know all about what you can do, so whenever you're out of your cell there's a minimum of two guards keeping a minimum of twelve feet away from you. You've already noticed that they have their weapons loaded, aimed at you, and safeties off at all times. Remember that you're a prisoner of war, not an inmate. That makes you an enemy combatant and your protections under the Geneva Convention vanish the moment you do something stupid, like attacking one of the guards. Two Federal Judges have already approved of these actions so if you want to waste time complaining about it to your lawyer during your next meeting, go ahead."

"Third," a third finger joined the first two. "Your mittens. The Geneva Convention calls for us to disarm enemy prisoners. We've already pointed out that the only way to really disarm you is to amputate your hands, but the JAG representatives balked at that. We came up with the gloves as a compromise. You might be interested to know that the ACLU has already filed suit on your behalf. The judges said they'd take away your gloves if the ACLU attorneys would change places with your guards. There weren't any takers, so I'm afraid the mittens stay on. Again, if you want to spend your meeting time with your lawyer bitching about your manicure, go right ahead." The Major crossed his arms front of his chest and glared at Shego.

"I'll clue you in on something else," the Major continued, before Shego could come up with another complaint. "Just to make life a little easier on my guards. Before we took over watching you, your brothers came in here and trained us. They beat the living crap out of us and let us know you were the toughest of all. So yeah, all of the guards here are scared to death of you. That means that if you make trouble they aren't going to try to restrain you; they're going to empty their magazines into you. None of us need any outside authorization to use deadly force; as per the Geneva Convention, if you take any aggressive action against any of us, we're shooting."

"So you're telling me to be a lady while I'm here?" Shego didn't think that she could be cowed, but the Major was coming pretty close.

"Not at all!" The Major snapped at her. "Let me give you a little story about **my** family. I had a little brother who was an officer in the Army. Yeah, Marine and Army in the same family; the heckling over the Thanksgiving Dinner table was something else, but dad was really proud of us. Anyway, my brother was a tanker, stationed at Fort Riley. His battalion was out on a gunnery range when your robots attacked. His commander gave his company the mission to seize and hold the base's ammunition bunkers. During the fight, his tank ran out of ammunition, so he ordered his men out, took the drivers seat, and rammed the robots until his tank was destroyed."

"So now I have a widowed sister-in-law living with me," the Major's voice wasn't angry, it was devoid of emotion. "And a half-orphaned niece who's idea of 'daddy' is a case holding a folded flag and twenty-one polished cartridges. Most of the guards here have similar stories to mine."

"We have authorization to use lethal force if you resist us or attempt to escape," the Major was looking her directly in the eye. "Please, **PLEASE**, resist us or attempt to escape."

Shego was completely intimidated as she walked, head down and hands out away from her sides, back to her cell. One thought kept running through her mind.

_Maybe we went too far this time._


	2. Arrival in Japan

_Before starting, I'd like to thank everyone who read and reviewed to this point. I'd like to point out that I don't answer the reviews in the story, since I don't want to slight anyone who may post a review after I update. However, I do respond to all, non-anonymous reviews, usually within 24 hours._

_Big, big thank-you to Joe Stoppinghem for Beta reading._

**Chapter 2: Arrival in Japan**

"We'll be landing in a little bit, KP." Ron's gentle voice and warm breath, in her ear, woke Kim. She found this a much more pleasant experience than her alarm clock. She opened her eyes and discovered that she had fallen asleep with her head on his shoulder. She smiled, remembering that almost every time she slept during a ride, she wound up with her head on his shoulder. _Another clue that I never noticed_, she decided. _I should have realized how…relaxed I am around him._

She pushed her recriminations out of her mind; they were together now, and that's all that mattered. She stretched a little, stiff from her long bout of forced inactivity; the half-hour flight from Middleton to Denver, then a two-hour layover, then a seven hour flight to Honolulu, then a two hour layover, then a nine hour flight to Tokyo made for a long day. She was puzzled by the horror stories she had heard about traveling coach. She found it pleasant, much better than a cargo hold. Of course, the fact that she was only about five foot five might have a great deal to do with her finding the seat fairly roomy. They had raised the armrest between their seats and had a nice, long cuddle. Ron wasn't much bigger than she was, so the pooled space was more than adequate.

It was a large plane, so it took some time before enough people ahead of them exited so that they could join the line and leave. Ron retrieved their bags from the overhead bin, then retrieved an elderly lady's bag for her. He then used his limited mastery of Japanese to exchange pleasantries with his fellow passengers. Finally, the teens were able to slip into the line of moving people and leave the aircraft.

"So what now?" Kim asked her companion. "You're the expert."

"Doing this once before makes me an expert," Ron snorted. He bent down to retrieve a toy that a child ahead of them had dropped. He returned the toy to its owner, with a smile for the child's mother, before returning to Kim.

"The last time, Yori met me at Baggage Claim," he explained.

"Did you remember to tell them our flight number and arrival time?" Kim prompted.

"Email and…other means," Ron answered. Kim remembered that they couldn't talk freely here. It was very crowded and it would be too easy for the wrong ears to overhear them.

"Okay," Kim replied. "So someone will meet us at Baggage Claim?"

"That would be my guess," Ron shrugged. Then he stepped forward briskly and helped a middle-aged man gather up the papers that had flown from his broken briefcase.

Kim didn't like the idea of going to Baggage Claim. It wasn't that she felt that she was too important to stand around waiting for her checked luggage. Back in Honolulu, Wade had called them to report that a small horde of reporters had staked out the baggage claim at that airport. Obviously, someone in Denver had spotted them getting on the Honolulu plane and had made a few dollars by calling the tip in to various news organizations. Wade had called in a favor or two, and Kim and Ron had actually walked down the skyway to a plane bound for Sydney. Partway down, airline personnel had ushered them through a service door, down a utility corridor, and then through another service hatch and aboard their Tokyo bound airliner. They hoped that the deception had worked, and that nobody on this plane had called in similar tips. Keeping the existence of a martial arts training school secret wouldn't be easy if a pack of reporters followed them.

Ron exchanged bows with the man he had assisted, then rejoined Kim.

"Even if nobody meets us, we can still get there," he reported. We can take a cab to the bus station, then catch a bus to a nearby village. From there, we can get to the school."

"Do you really think we'll have to?" Kim was sure that Yamanouchiwould send someone to retrieve them.

"It may be a kind of test," Ron explained. "I've heard about companies doing something like it to college seniors on their site visits. Tell the interviewee that they'll provide transportation, then don't provide it. Then they get to see if the interviewee panics, gets mad, or just takes it in stride."

"You know more about the school than I do," Kim confessed, linking arms with him again. "Does this sound like something they'd do to check us out."

"The headmaster can be a very subtle man," Ron answered in a very low voice. "I wouldn't put it past him. How about this, if nobody meets us, we take the cab and the bus to that village. We check into a small guesthouse there and go hiking in the mountains."

Kim looked confused for a moment before she understood. Checking into a guesthouse and hiking would give them a plausible reason to be in that area. They would have plenty of opportunities to make covert contact with the school.

"Who are you and what have you done with my sometimes clueless boyfriend?" She asked him, playfully.

"I'm just on vacation," Ron retorted, with a big smile on his face. "I'll go back to being the buffoon when we get home."

"Don't say that about yourself!" Kim snapped. "Ron, I know that even I thought you were being a dolt at times, but I was wrong! You were always doing your best when we were out on the missions and I'm really sorry about all the times I harshed on you when you made mistakes. You've really stepped up lately, and I don't want to ever hear about your clumsy days again."

"They **did** happen, KP," he pointed out. "And I'm not perfect, so I'll make mistakes again. We can either laugh about my screw-ups or get mad about them. I'd rather laugh."

Kim let go of his arm then wormed under it, resting it across her shoulders while she wrapped her arm around his waist. "We've got to talk about this mature attitude sometime," she informed him. "It really fits you well."

"Anything for my KP," he grinned and gave her a little squeeze. "The world's favorite teen heroine should have an acceptable sidekick."

"I'll get you for that," she promised, squeezing him back. "But the world's favorite teen heroine isn't looking forward to running the 'reporter gauntlet' once we leave the secured area."

They didn't need to worry. Before they even left the terminal Yori appeared, dressed as one of the airline's customer service representatives.

"Miss Possible, Mr. Stoppable," their friend addressed them, with a concealed wink. "There seems to be a problem with your checked luggage. Would you follow me please?"

The two Americans followed her into the employee areas of the terminal, where they claimed their bags and loaded onto a taxi. The taxi slipped out of the employee parking lot and merged with the usual, airport traffic.

"We can now speak freely," Yori informed Kim and Ron. "Welcome to Japan and to Yamanouchi."

"Er…don't take this wrong," Ron answered. "But just how freely can we talk?" The blonde boy nodded towards the driver.

Kim followed his glance and recognized…"Hirotaka?"

"Hai, Possible-san," the Japanese teen, disguised as a driver, acknowledged.

"Hey dude, I heard about you," Ron addressed their driver. "You went to Middleton while I came here last time. I'd say that Middleton got the better of that deal."

"So you say, Stoppable-san," Hirotaka replied, inclined his head to acknowledging the compliment. "But I, at least, knew what to expect. The rigorous training you encountered must have come as something of a shock." Hirotaka's demeanor was much different from the conceited young man who had visited Middleton the previous year.

"Oh, that," Ron brushed it off. "Four A.M. wake up, intensive martial arts training, being attacked by Monkeyfist, (here Kim's eyes widened) no big. You, on the other hand, had to deal with a bunch of hormone-crazed girls-ooofff!"

Kim's elbow in her boyfriend's ribs silenced him even while the two Japanese teens grinned. Kim was hardly proud of the way she had pursued Hirotaka when he had visited Middleton. She had competed with her best female friend for his attention, even though she was kind of dating Josh at the time. She had no intention of ever bringing that up again.

"What can we expect at Yamanouchi?" Kim asked in an effort to divert the conversation. "Ron here wouldn't tell me anything other than to pack light and be ready for a long walk."

"Ron-san takes his pledge of secrecy seriously, Possible-san," Yori replied. "The advice he provided was sound. Did he suggest you do anything else?"

Kim's mind went back to the previous week. With no school and a light mission load, Ron had suggested they conduct two training sessions each day. Kim had gone along with his suggestion, partly because it was a good idea and partly because the 'rents weren't quite as nervous about the two of them being together when they were doing something constructive. Ron had pushed himself hard, concentrating on running up and down steep hills while carrying heavy sandbags. While Kim was in better condition than he was, she found herself pushed, as well.

"No," Kim replied, shaking off here reverie. "He just started working out really hard."

Ron had also pushed for more intense sparring. Kim had inflicted some major bruising on him in the last week, and had taken a few in return. In the past, Ron would have complained about them but now he simply referred to the bruises as lessons and took them in stride. She was still clearly better than he was, but he continued to steadily improve. It wasn't normal for him to be so driven.

"Preparing oneself physically for an unknown trial is never a bad idea," Yori answered, almost sounding like she was quoting a saying. "Like you have undoubtedly inferred from Ron-san's conversation with Hirotoka-san, the training can be quite…rigorous."

"Whoa, sorry," Ron interrupted the conversation. "I almost forgot! Felix gave me a letter to pass along to you." He handed Yori a very thick envelope. "He's been working on it for some time, so you have a fair amount of reading to do."

"My thanks, Ron-san," she took the envelope and tucked it into a notebook, unable to hide her delighted expression. "While Felix-kun and I exchange frequent emails, handwritten correspondence is something to be cherished." Kim and Ron exchanged a glance over the honorific. The four teens continued to talk as Hirotakacontinued to drive. As the Japanese teens wouldn't disclose any more information about Yamanouchi, they found themselves discussing the ramifications of Drakken's and Fisk's earlier actions. Eventually, Hirotaka pulled over on a lonely stretch of mountain road.

"I'll catch up to you later," he informed the other three. "Our garage is in that village we just passed." The other three teens piled out.

"So where's the school?" Kim asked her companions as the taxi drove off.

Ron and Yori exchanged an amused glance before Yori answered.

"Up there," she pointed into the low clouds, where a mountain's silhouette peeked hazily through the fog.

"So how do we get there?" The redhead asked.

Yoriand Ron exchanged another glance before the Japanese girl gave Ron a slight nod, almost as if granting the blonde permission to speak.

"It will of course," Ron intoned, "be our honor to walk.

* * *

"So you understand your situation, Mr. Lipsky?"

"Yeah dude," Motor Ed answered the DA. "My lawyer explained it all to me, seriously."

"I'll reiterate," his defense attorney offered. "My client will plead guilty to one charge each of witness tampering and premeditated assault. You, as well as all state and local authorities, will drop all other charges against Mr. Lipsky in return for his testimony."

"Don't forget my boys, seriously!"

The defense attorney nodded. "In addition, all charges against Mr. Lipsky's colleagues, the so called Gearheads, shall be dropped with the exception of one count of assault and attempted theft apiece."

"This is acceptable," the DA assured the two men in front of him. "Mr. Lipsky, are you prepared to make your initial statement?"

"Seriously."

"Very well, begin."

Ed waited until his lawyer nodded to him.

"Well, 'bout three weeks back," Ed began. "Right after my 'cuz did that thing with the robot things, the Monkey Limey shows up."

"Wait," the DA interrupted. "By 'my 'cuz' do you mean Drew Lipsky, by the 'thing with the robot things' do you mean The Diablo Incident, and by 'the Monkey Limey' do you mean Lord Montgomery Fisk?"

"Seriously on it, dude!"

"Right," the DA prompted the big blonde. "Continue."

"So the Monkey Limey shows up and tells me that Drew could be facing the chair, seriously. He told me that we could team up and Drew'd get life, y'know?"

"What was his suggestion?" The DA prompted.

"He said we had to take out Red and the Skinny Dude…"

"By 'Red' do you mean Kim Possible and by 'the Skinny Dude' do you mean Ron Stoppable?" The DA needed to keep his translations current.

"Is that his name? Yeah, Possible and …Spottable?

"Stoppable," the DA corrected.

"Okay, seriously, Red and her sidekick," Motor Ed continued. "The Monkey Limey said that they were gonna be serious witnesses in the trial. If we could get rid of them, the suits might not be able to put Drew in the chair."

"Okay, I can understand that," the DA conceded. "What was in it for Fisk?"

"He had some problem with the Skinny Dude," Ed informed him. "He kept saying something about some magical monkey thing that the Skinny Dude had stolen. He said that he'd whack the Skinny Dude and leave Red to me."

"Why did he want to kill Stoppable?" The DA asked.

"Monkey Limey said that the magic thingy that the Skinny Dude took would come back to him if he killed the kid. I didn't understand it, seriously."

"Why did Fisk need you?"

"Manny, one of my boys, has a contractor's license," Ed explained. "The Monkey Limey had a good plan for the two, seriously."

"Yes, we know all about the plan," the DA continued. "Now, did Manny or any of the other Gearheads know that you intended to kill Possible?"

"No, seriously," Ed's tone was well…serious. "I just told them to grab the Wheel Boy's pack. They didn't know any more than that."

"By 'Wheel Boy' do you mean Felix Renton, and by the pack, do you mean his wheelchair's power source?"

"If that's the kid's name, seriously right on!"

"Let's summarize," the DA said. "Fisk approached you and told you that your cousin, Drew Lipsky, would have a better chance of avoiding the death penalty if Possible and Stoppable were eliminated. He further informed you that Stoppable had taken some magic from him and that he needed to kill Stoppable to regain it. He also had a plan to eliminate the two, which required your assistance. You did not inform any of your associates that you intended to kill Possible. Is this correct?"

"Seriously, Suit Dude," Ed sounded annoyed. "That's what I just said."

"Just translating to English," the DA informed him. "Now, why did you fail to inform your colleagues about your intended homicide?"

Ed stared at the man with a blank expression.

"Why didn't you let the Gearheads know that you were going to whack Red?" Ed's lawyer cut in.

"Hey, I'm no fink!" Ed protested. "I knew there'd be serious charges coming up if we got caught and I didn't want my boys up on a murder rap! Drew's my cousin and it was my job to help him."

"Even by murdering teenagers?" The DA's voice was accusing.

"If it came to that," Ed replied with a flinch. "Look, I don't have anything against Red or the Skinny Dude, seriously. I know that some of my stunts have dinged people up, but I've never whacked anybody before! It's just my 'cuz, him and his mom are the only family I've got. I couldn't just let you suits put him in the chair!"

"Did it ever occur to you that Possible and Stoppable were only two witnesses?" The DA asked him. "What were you going to do, murder everyone who even saw one of the diablos?"

"I didn't know about the other witnesses, seriously," Ed confessed. "Look, I know that I'm not the best tuned engine in the shop, but when Monkey Limey said that they were your big pistons, it made sense to whack them." The big man dropped his face into his hands. "Even if they're just kids."

There was a long silence, broken only by Ed's sobs. Finally, Ed's lawyer felt compelled to speak.

"I think we're finished here," he said. "Remember our agreement. It's my contention that Mr. Fisk manipulated my client."

"I might not be the cleanest plug in the block," Ed muttered. "But that dude's seriously out of alignment."

"Agreed," said the DA. "You're still facing…serious…charges, Mr. Lipsky, but you won't spend the rest of you life in jail." The man paused. "Strictly off the record, what do you intend to do with yourself when you get out?"

"That teacher guy that conked me got me to thinking, seriously," the big man muttered. "Why am I out wrecking stuff? I think I could make a living as a mechanic."

"Seriously?" The DA's eyebrow raised.

"Seriously!"

* * *

A few weeks ago, Dr. Drakken had stood at the brink of world domination. Now, he sat in a conference room inside Global Justice's maximum security holding facility. He didn't even rate the ultimate security facility that Shego was undoubtedly in at this time. As much as he hated to admit it, once he was separated from his gizmos, his lab, and his manufacturing facilities, Dr. Drakkenwas a very ordinary man. The sad fact was that the extensive security precautions surrounding him were more for his protection than his confinement.

"How many times to I have to tell you?" He protested. "I made every effort to avoid casualties! My machines only targeted those who resisted!"

"So you're admitting that you instructed those things to target people," his interrogator pounced on his statement. Drew Lipsky thought that he should feel privileged to have a four star general interrogating him, but he didn't.

"Don't answer that!" Drakken's lawyer snapped. One of the few perks he had gained from this strange mixture of civilian, military, and international criminal status was the right to have his lawyer present during questioning.

"Quit trying to lead my client," the man snarled at the general.

"Get off it," the general snapped right back. "We've got him cold. Do you know what the death count is up to, Lipsky? Over two thousand in the U.S. alone! That's two thousand counts of premeditated manslaughter. Your only chance to avoid the death penalty is to come clean, completely clean, before you go to trial. Even then you'll be spending the rest of your life behind bars."

Dr. Drakken looked down in shame. How had it come to this? It was supposed to have been so quick and unexpected! His assets had been almost fully in place before Synthodrone 902 had called in and told him that Stoppable had instigated a background check. Just two more weeks and he would have had all of his ammunition manufactured and cached. Two more weeks and he would have had his second reactor constructed and on line, giving forty percent of his diablos flight capability. Looking back, he decided that he had panicked when he heard that his cover had been blown. He could have spent another several days preparing.

"I never intended any casualties," he said. "If that young fool Stoppable had used his hormones rather than his four brain cells, it wouldn't have happened like this. I would have marshaled my forces and moved with irresistible force. There would have been no conflict and thus no casualties. Blame Stoppable for this fiasco!"

"Shut up, Doctor!" The lawyer screamed, but it was too late.

"Thank you, Lipsky," the general gloated. "You've just admitted to masterminding the entire thing." The man then looked to the lawyer. "If I were you, I'd be advising your client to come clean really fast. The way it stands, his own mouth will convict him before he even gets his day in court."

Doctor Drakkenclamped his jaw shut, determined to keep what few secrets he had left. His Caribbean lair had been raided and he had no illusions about anything useful being left there, but he still had a few resources at his command. There were a handful of safe houses maintained by a convoluted network of front companies, intermediaries, and property management firms. While the various law enforcement agencies would uncover some of them, he was confident that a few would remain. He also had a clandestine laboratory hidden in the Montana Rockies. It's facilities were primitive compared to his lab in the Caribbean, but it was something. Finally, he had three hidden stockpiles, each with thirty of the diablo robots.

These stockpiles were buried deep and carefully shielded against the entire electromagnetic radiation spectrum. The shielding had prevented these diablos from receiving the power and activation signals during his attempted takeover. Because of this, the diablos wouldn't react if the authorities sent out a signal to locate more of the toys. If he should somehow escape, they would form the core of his new criminal enterprise. If he were sentenced to death, he would reveal these stockpiles and the other assets, one at a time, in order to delay his execution.

"I am through speaking to you for today," Drakken informed the general. "You will get nothing further from me until you are prepared to offer something more than perpetual confinement in return for my information."

"Say what you want, Lipsky," the general smirked. "You're already convicted! This trial is only going to be a formality. We've got so much dirt on you that my fourteen year old could beat any legal team you can put together." The man leaned back, put his hands behind his head and his feet on the table. "Waste all the time you want, we've got all the time in the world."


	3. A Long Walk

**Chapter 3: A Long Walk**

"You weren't kidding when you told me to be ready for a long walk," Kim observed to her boyfriend. "But you didn't tell me how much of it would be vertical."

"Secrets, KP, you know the deal," Ron tried to mollify her. "But you have to admit, the view's worth it."

Kim looked down the trail and was forced to agree. The panorama was stunning. Gazing at the view, she reached out and caught her BFBF's hand. In the past, she would have talked about the view with him. Now that they were a couple it seemed more appropriate to just hold hands and drink in the view. Ron caused her a moment of concern when he dropped her hand, but when his arm settled around her shoulders, she decided that the embrace was even more appropriate. Her arm went around his waist, pulling him even more securely to her.

"This is nice, KP," Ron said, after several minutes of pleasant contemplation. "But we better get moving again. I don't think we want to be out on the trail after dark."

"Stoppable-san's suggestion is most wise, Possible-san," Yori chimed in, from where she had stepped back to give the couple some privacy. "The paths can be treacherous after the sun sets."

Kim looked up and judged them to have roughly two more hours until sundown. As she turned to continue up the trail, reluctantly dropping her arm from around Ron, she noticed the cuts healing on his scalp.

"Yori," she frowned. "Can we speak openly on the trail?"

"Yes, Possible-san," their guide assured her. "We are quite isolated."

"Ron," she addressed her boyfriend while nodding her thanks to Yori. "Why aren't you using your healing meditation on your scalp wound? For that matter, why didn't you use it on your hip injury after we beat Monty back in Yuma?"

"I didn't use it on my hip injury because Sensei hadn't taught me the technique at that time," Ron answered, gesturing for Kim to precede him on the narrow trail. "And I haven't used it on this wound because the reason Sensei taught me the skill doesn't apply."

"I don't understand," Kim confessed over her shoulder, as she followed Yori.

"Sensei taught me how to speed up my healing because I was in danger," Ron explained. "Monty had vanished and my injuries kept me from defending myself or running away. By accelerating my healing, I took the chance that someone might get suspicious and start to wonder why I was healing so fast. Sensei decided that the risk of exposing Yamanouchi was worth it to keep me from being helpless if Monty attacked me."

"So why didn't he teach you the technique back when Monty injured your hip?" She asked.

"He hasn't explained and I haven't asked him, but I'll make a guess," Ron mused. "Monty was wounded at the same time, so Sensei probably knew that he was unlikely to make any sort of move against me until he healed up, as well."

"But if you had healed up, you might have placed in that tournament." Kim pointed out.

"Yeah, but placing in a tournament wouldn't be worth the risk of exposing Yamanouchi," Ron countered. "I wasn't in danger at the time."

"And you're not in danger now?" Kim prompted.

"Exactly," Ron confirmed. "First of all, my scalp wound hurts but it doesn't affect my ability to fight or run. Secondly, Monty is now imprisoned and he's the only supervillain who has it in for me. None of the others can even remember my name."

"Ron, I know that's a sore spot…" Kim began to console her boyfriend, only to have Ron interrupt.

"It **used** to be a sore spot for me," he explained. "But I've learned that it gives me an advantage."

"How's that?" Kim wondered.

"Being underestimated," he clarified. "Think about the Diablo Incident. Drakken spent months finding your aching heel…"

"Achilles heel," Kim corrected.

"That too," Ron continued. "Anyway, he spent months finding a way to take you out of the game. Now, I'm flattered that he even bothered to try to deal with me, but the fact is that he didn't bother to plan for me. He just copied his plan for you, altered the gender, and unleashed it on me."

Ron could tell by the set of Kim's shoulders that she was getting upset. While the way she had shunted him aside when Eric showed up still irritated him, it absolutely devastated her. Ron was still determined to make his point, but he went into damage control mode to do so.

"If he had bothered to research me at all," Ron concluded. "He would have realized that he would have only needed to arrange for me to receive the entire Zombie Mayhem series and a high speed computer. That would have taken me out of the picture for months. Instead, he underestimated me and let me help bring him down. That's why I don't mind being overlooked by the villain community."

"You really are some piece of work," Kim replied, happy that he couldn't see how moist her eyes had become. "You know, even with your bad experience with that sleaze-reporter, a lot of guys would have still fallen for Syntho-902."

"That's another thing that Drakken didn't take into account," Ron explained. "I'd spent over two years as the Middleton High Mascot, which meant that I'd spent a lot of time around cheerleaders, the prettiest girls in the school. Throw in the fact that my best friend was a drop dead gorgeous redhead and you can see why a hottie didn't affect me as much as most guys my age."

"Oh, you think I'm pretty?" Kim glanced over her shoulder.

"The proper term is beautiful," Ron corrected. "I'm not insisting you go ahead of me on the uphill strictly because of manners, you know." A grin broke out on his face after he said this.

Kim couldn't help but laugh at that. At the same time she was glad that Ron couldn't see the smile that she just couldn't keep off of her face. She had a momentary concern that he was just attracted to her body, much like she had been attracted to Syntho-901. Then she thought it through.

_It's fine_, she decided. _That young man fell for you, the whole package. This is no shallow infatuation. He knows you thoroughly, and loves you for you. The fact that he thinks you're hot is just icing on the cake._

"Getting back to the original topic," she broke the current line of thought. "Any other reasons that you aren't speeding up healing your scalp wound?"

"Yeah, the wound is really visible. Say some photographer took a picture of you and caught my face as well. Everyone would have seen the cut. Then say another photographer caught me a week later. A whole lot of people would have seen how quickly it healed. With my internal injuries, only the Medical Center's staff knew the details and they aren't talking. Doctor patient confidentiality and all that."

"So some pain is worth keeping Yamanouchi secret?"

"It is to me." Ron stressed.

"Speaking of Yamanouchi," she moved to another topic. "There has to be more to their involvement than the fact that you have…access to the MMP. I mean, arranging to have these cultural exchanges and keeping Monty under surveillance has to be costly in terms of money and manpower. They have to be expecting some return on their investment. What are they expecting from you?"

She noticed that Yori had tensed a little. Ron paused before he answered.

"I don't pretend to know everything," he confessed. "I'm sure that there's a lot more to Yamanouchi, and to what they expect of me, than I know. What I do know, I've been forbidden to tell. I'm assuming that Sensei has invited you here so that he can reveal what he feels is appropriate. That's part of the reason that I'm so glad you're here with me this time."

"You know I don't like secrets," Kim countered, looking over her shoulder again.

"I know KP, but these secrets aren't **my** secrets to tell," Ron answered. "I'll gladly tell you anything and everything that Sensei allows me to, but this is a whole lot bigger than me."

Much to her own surprise, Kim found that she could accept that. She could tell that Yori had also relaxed. Further questions were curtailed by the combination of high altitude, steep path, and vigorous pace set by their guide. Even fit teens from the Colorado foothills were feeling the strain. After another half-hour of hard walking, the three teens passed under a waterfall and through a tunnel. Just ahead of them, a rope bridge spanned a deep gorge. Beyond the gorge, the path wound up one final hill and passed through an ornate gate.

"Yamanouchi?" Kim asked.

"Yes," both of her companions responded, but neither thought to call the jinx.

"We have arrived on time," Yori announced. "The ceremony shall take place at sundown."

"Ceremony?" Kim and Ron asked at the same time. Again, neither called the jinx.

"The wedding ceremony," Yori explained.

"Who's getting married?" Ron asked.

"You are, Stoppable-san," Yori answered.

"Wha…I…but…who?" Ron remained as articulate as ever.

"Ron?" Kim's growling question jolted her BFBF out of his brain-lock.

"I didn't know anything about this!" Ron's voice had risen an octave. "I swear, I didn't know we were going to get…"

"The two of you are not to be married," Yori interrupted. "Stoppable-san shall marry a descendant of our school's founder."

"What? Why? How? When?" It clearly wasn't the lack of oxygen at this high altitude that had Ron somewhat lightheaded.

"For thousands of years, his descendants have attended his school, and have had access to the Mystical Monkey Power," Yori explained. "Although their mastery was somewhat limited. By joining this line with Stoppable-san, Sensei hopes to bring great power and honor to Yamanouchi." She turned to look directly at Ron. "The heavens are in perfect alignment for this purpose. The child that you and she beget this night shall become the greatest wielder of the Mystical Monkey Power in all eternity."

"Wha…." Ron's eyes were larger than dinner plates. He looked back down the trail, tensing up to run all the way back to Tokyo.

"So that's it?" Kim demanded. "You don't even tell us? You just drag us up here and spring this on us at the last moment? What is the meaning of all this?"

"It would appear," Yori explained. "That I have mastered the skill of the American style deadpan joke."

"WHAT?" Again, Kim and Ron asked together and again, neither thought to call the jinx.

"Hirotaka-san was correct," Yori giggled, covering her mouth with one hand. "Tell a Caucasian anything dealing with mysticism, and the Caucasian will think that you believe it."

"You…mean…no…wedding…no…baby?" Ron's eyes weren't quite as wide, but he still looked like he was ready to bolt.

"No, Stoppable-san," Yori was struggling with her laughter. "There is no ceremony awaiting either of you this evening, only a short, informal meeting with Sensei. He is most anxious to greet the two of you."

"So," Kim grated out, although she **did** have a bit of a smile on her face. "Since you folks don't intend on breeding **my boyfriend**, what are we going to be doing?"

"Sensei will tell you the full story," Yori explained, still smiling. "But I will say that he wishes to assist Stoppable-san attune himself with the Mystical Monkey Power and assist both of you with training and teamwork."

"That, I can accept," Kim agreed, shaking her head but smiling. "You got both of us good."

"No…wife…no…baby?" Ron continued to babble.

"Come, Possible-san," Yori offered, catching one of Ron's arms. "Let's get him inside. I will show you to your rooms and the two of you can bathe and eat before meeting with Sensei. Perhaps some of Sensei's green tea will calm your boyfriend enough for the two of you to…how do you say…do some necking, before you retire for the night."

"YORI!" Kim rolled her eyes as she took Ron's other arm. The two girls led the still shellshocked Ron Stoppable onto the Yamanouchi Grounds. While Kim wouldn't admit it out loud, she was hoping that Ron would eventually calm down, and for the exact reason Yori had suggested.

* * *

_"These will be your facilities if you choose to accept my offer." _The synthesized voice didn't have inflections, but DNAmy knew that it the speaker was trying to convince her to stay.

"I'll need to bring in more specialized equipment," she answered. "But the general equipment, the facility, and the utilities are more than enough. I accept your offer."

The withered figure in the motorized wheelchair couldn't even nod his approval. Only his eyes and the wheelchair itself were under his mind's control. There was a pause while he used his eyes, which were being scanned by a powerful computer, to program his response.

_"Exactly as we discussed," _the voice came from the speech synthesizer_. "Question…You have a list of such resources you will require to proceed…question." _The lack of inflection meant that he had to actually inform his listener that he was asking a question in order to be sure of receiving a response.

"I gave it to your assistant earlier today," Amy assured her newest employer. "Along with the channels he can use to obtain them, secretly. I assume that you prefer this project to take longer in order to maintain secrecy?"

_"Correct," _he responded after the necessary pause. "_Question…Do you find the offered payment acceptable…question." _

"Now that we have reached an agreement, I find the payment generous," she frowned slightly. "Also, I did say that I wouldn't be able to give you a timeline on results. I will work as fast as I can but we **are** breaking new ground here."

_"I remember," _the voice assured her. "_I agree that safety and secrecy override speed. I have dealt with researchers before and know that scientific breakthroughs cannot be scheduled. I will have experts reviewing your progress reports but I have no doubt that they will tell me that you are not dragging your feet. I have lived for thirty-eight years in this shell I call a body. Now that I have hope of a healthy body I can wait a few more years. Question…now that we are in agreement, when can you begin…Question."_

"I intend to start my preliminary work as soon as I reach my console," she informed her employer. "About twenty-four seconds after you give me the go to start."

_"Then I shall leave you to your work", _his lips, although not under his full control, twitched in what could be considered amusement_. "You have a direct communication channel to me, personally, over your console. Inform me of any requirements as soon as you experience them." _

With that said, the man spun his chair around and out of the lab, leaving Amy alone with her research. She was very happy and would soon be even happier. Amy walked to her console and called up several files she had previously given to her employer's technicians, for loading into the mainframe. First, she called up medical information on her employer and started a contrasting program to determine his genetic ideal. After she determined his genetic ideal, she would contrast this ideal against his anatomic reality. Even the supercomputer would take hours to finish the summary, which gave her time to start on her personal work, part of her payment.

"First I'll need burrowing capability," she mused out loud. "Preferably mammalian." She reviewed the genetic samples available in the laboratory's extensive vaults. "Let's see; badger, prairie dog, mole, and kangaroo rat. Then I need mass, strength and endurance, but not too large; black bear, wolf, antelope. Okay, now lets start the virtual splicing program."

With that, DNAmy started to simulate splicing genes too get the characteristics she wanted. It would take time, but she was doing something she enjoyed and she was being paid to do it. Soon the real work would begin, after the gene mixers, bio-isolators, and other specialized equipment showed up. She knew she would have to fabricate many of the specialized items right here, but she didn't' mind. She would give her employer what he wanted, more than what he wanted, and she would soon have **him** back with her once again. She activated a tracing program so that she could locate **him** when she was ready.

* * *

"You know, you don't have to do this." Oscar's father informed him. The two men had just returned to their modest home after a hard day of work.

"The pay's better than at Randall's Stables," Oscar pointed out. "And we can use the money. I've only got two more summers before college."

At this, the elder Mr. Williamsen beamed with pride. He had never had the opportunity to attend high school and his son was determined to attend college.

"Besides," Oscar continued. "We're working four, ten hour days a week. That gives me just enough time to get in one good workout each day, one day a week to keep up the house, and the weekends to myself."

"It's awful hard work," Mr. Williamsen reminded his son. "Being a summer intern to an earthmoving company isn't easy. I'd hoped that you'd have an easier life than me."

"I've got an easier life than you did," his son countered. "I'm hoping that some hard work now will make it even better."

"So you have a plan?" The father asked, taking a seat at the kitchen table. It was his son's turn to do the cooking.

"Kind of," Oscar admitted, putting a large skillet on the stove. He started it heating, put some grease in it, then pulled a chicken out of the refrigerator.

"Let's hear it," his father prompted.

"Okay, here's my back up plan," Oscar cut up the chicken while speaking, putting the parts in the skillet to cook. "I work this summer and next summer as an intern with Mickman's. I save my money, keep my grades up and go to college to get a Civil Engineering degree. I work every summer with Mickman's, so at the end of it I'll have a degree and some practical experience."

"Sounds good," his father approved. "We should be able to get a loan or two and get you through." He leaned back in his chair. "If that's your back up plan, what's your first plan?"

"The same, except for one thing," Oscar was now peeling potatoes. "I keep out of trouble and I place high at the State Tournament. I get a wrestling scholarship and that takes care of some of the money."

"Do you really think you can pull a scholarship?"

"A recruiter from Iowa State talked to me at last year's tournament," Oscar explained. "Once he found out I was a junior, he said that he couldn't talk to me any more. If I can place high again, I should be able to swing one. Wrestling scholarships aren't as sweet as football or basketball scholarships, but every bit helps." He finished peeling potatoes and put them in a pot to boil.

"How about your girlfriend, Cindy?" His dad asked.

"What about her?"

"Are the two of you going to be able to go to the same school?" Mr. Williamsen was watching his son closely.

"We've talked about it a little," Oscar admitted. "We would like to, but we're both more interested in our education than going to the same school. She wants to go to the University of Colorado and study journalism. If I can get a scholarship there, I'll go as well. If not, I'll follow any scholarship and we'll try the long-distance thing. If it doesn't work out, it just happens."

"I'm proud of both of you there," his father pointed out. "I've said it before, but both of you are pretty young to be thinking of a future together. You're doing the right thing, planning for your careers. If you can stay together, great." He paused a moment. "You sound pretty confident about getting accepted by a good college."

"It shouldn't be a problem," his son explained. "I get B's in all of my classes except Math and Science. I'm all A's in those. I checked and I easily make the academic standards. I checked with the guidance counselor and she says that my grades, combined with being active in football, wrestling, track, and band should make me a shoe-in for just about any university around here."

"Just don't get overconfident," his father warned. "You've really done well, and you've got a good plan. Just don't screw it up in your senior year."

"I don't intend to, dad. That's another good thing about this job. It cuts down on my chances to get into trouble. I'm busy at work four days a week and busy at home one day a week. That only gives me two days free each week."

"You've never been prone to get in trouble," Mr. Williamsen smiled at his son. "All I'm saying is to not start now. By the way, who's that guy you've been meeting with every Friday?"

"He's a legal representative from Global Justice," Oscar explained. "When that Drakken guy goes on trial, Cindy and I are going to wind up on the witness stand at some point. I'm sure we're going to wind up there when Ed Lipsky and that monkey guy go to trial as well. The legal guy's just trying to get us ready."

"He's telling you what to say?" Mr. Williamsen's tone was carefully neutral.

"No, and he's really stressing that," Oscar answered. "He's being a real jerk, trying to get me and Cindy to contradict ourselves and lose our temper. He isn't a bad guy, he just says that the defense attorneys will try to rattle us. He wants us to keep our cool and keep our stories straight, even under pressure."

"How does he try to get you to lose your temper?"

"He makes raunchy allegations about what Cindy and I did that night in the forest, for one thing," Oscar's jaw clenched at the thought. "Again, **he** doesn't think that of us, but he says that Drakken's attorneys will try to get us mad so we lose our tempers and become less credible. He's also grilling us on the events at the make up prom."

"Well, do any of his allegations come close?"

"No," Oscar did a very good job of controlling his temper. "It's not that Cindy and I haven't had our chances. We've talked about it and we've decided that we aren't ready for the possible consequences if we do."

"That's good," his father approved. "I'm not quite ready to be a grandfather yet."

"That's not the only consequence," Oscar's voice had grown grim. "There's also the fact that some of the kids at school, and their parents, think that Cindy's slumming by dating me."

The older Williamsen didn't need to say a thing, he just looked steadily at his son.

"Most of the kids and most of the parents are fine with me," Oscar explained. "But some of them really resent me. I'm this lower class kid from a spot on the map town out in the middle nowhere! Most of the residents around here are kind of upscale, a lot of them are proud of how many generations they've lived in this town, and some of them don't like the fact that I'm in their school. Then I don't act like I'm supposed to; I'm not supposed to get better grades in chemistry, algebra and trigonometry than the privileged kids do. I'm not supposed to be a better safety or fullback on the football field than the privileged boys are. I'm not supposed to be a varsity wrestler, much less the school's first state champion. I'm not supposed to be dating one of the prettiest, most popular girls in the school."

"Then when I succeed, I'm still not doing what I'm supposed to," he continued in a calmer tone, after catching his breath. "I'm supposed to get a letter jacket and lord it over the nerds and geeks, not play tuba in the school band. I'm supposed to dress up in the latest fashions and hang around the mall, not put on an old pair of jeans and go fishing with Ron and Felix. I'm supposed to talk about all the wild, carnal things I'm doing with my girlfriend, not play piano for the church's children's program."

"A lot of kids are giving you grief?"

"Nine out of ten are absolutely fine," Oscar informed his father. "But a few of them really like to put everyone down."

"That Rockwaller girl?" His father asked him.

"She's not the only one," Oscar told him. "She's just the worst one. She really backed off of Ron after that thing with Drakken went down on prom night. She even gave me some slack for about a week, as well. She doesn't mess with me anymore, but she keeps heckling Cindy to find herself a better looking, Middleton-born boyfriend who drives a better car."

"I wish we could afford a better car," Mr. Williamsen said, sadly.

"That's not important, dad," Oscar protested. "I really shouldn't let it get to me. I can handle all the crap she and her posse dump on me, but it really burns me when they go after Cindy. That's why I'm really being a Boy Scout with Cindy. There's a small posse of snobs, kids and parents, that would just love to exaggerate some story about the two of us."

"Just don't let anyone push you into doing something stupid."

"I won't, dad."

Soon, dinner was ready. The two Williamsen men weren't imaginative cooks, but they could put a simple, solid meal on the table. They quickly ate their meal of fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and canned vegetables. Mr. Williamsen washed the dishes (whoever did the cooking didn't have to do the dishes) while Oscar packed their lunches for the next day. Afterwards, Mr. Williamsen went to the garage to work on the lawn mower while Oscar did his evening workout. Except for their discussion, it was a typical day for the two.


	4. Training and Learning

Chapter 4: Training and Learning

Kim wiped the sweat out of her eyes and tried to focus on the issue at hand. For the last three weeks, the staff and senior students at Yamanouchi had been drilling her and her BFBF hard. She had expected some of the training, such as the conditioning training every morning that left her aching and gasping for air. She had also expected the brutal hand-to-hand combat training every afternoon. She hadn't expected the two hours they spent every day learning the Japanese Language and Culture. Sensei explained that this was part of Yamanouchi's cover, insuring that the Americans would return home with some Japanese Language skills and an appreciation for the culture. While Kim enjoyed learning these things, she was shocked by the fact that Ron absolutely loved, and thrived in, these classes.

Ron, in particular, was benefiting from the rigorous training. While he had been more capable than she had realized before they came to the school, his improvement was breathtaking. He didn't have the agility and grace that she did, so his approach was very different. Kim excelled at blistering offensives that overwhelmed her opponents with an avalanche of powerful, precise kicks and punches. Ron, on the other hand, shone at conducting an active defense. He executed subtle, lazy-seeming dodges and blocks, which spurred his opponent into unleashing repeated attacks; until said opponent had exhausted himself. Where Kim's forte was the long range strike, Ron was better at closing with an opponent, using trips and holds to immobilize him, then finishing the fight with a close range strike. For the last week, the staff had been concentrating on building the teens' teamwork. A number of the senior students would attack the two Americans. Kim and Ron were learning how to combine their strengths and cover for each other's flaws.

Ron also received additional instructions directly from Sensei. Kim was only occasionally allowed to attend these sessions. When Kim did not attend, Ron would emerge in a variety of states. Sometimes he emerged frustrated, sometimes serene, sometimes exhausted, sometimes cheerful, and occasionally angry. The ones she **had** attended were intense debates about morality, free will, and honor. Ron would sometimes really get into the arguments and while he kept his temper, his presentations could get right downright passionate. Kim had never seen this aspect of her boyfriend's character before.

Finally, there were what Kim considered 'Teamwork Drills.' These consisted of small, difficult tasks, which neither teen could accomplish alone. This brought her mind back to the task at hand. She and Ron stood at the edge of a small pond. A pole, with a platform on top of it, stood in the center of the pond. A thick, strong rope bridged the pond, tied to two large trees and passing directly over the pole. A ceramic figure sat on the platform and the teens' job was to retrieve the figure without getting wet.

"Do you have any ideas?" She asked Ron.

"The same as yours, I bet," he replied, hefting a four foot piece of rope. It was the only equipment their trainers had provided.

The two teens discussed the sitchfor a few minutes then went into action. They reached the pond-spanning rope by climbing the nearer of the two trees. Ron led as they clung to this rope and crawled out to a point abovethe platform. They were still eight feet over the platform. Ron used their four-foot piece of rope to lash his feet to the spanning rope. Trusting in his knot, he hung upside-down above the platform.

Kim went into action, climbing down Ron's body to cling to his chest. Ron reached up and grabbed her ankles. Kim released Ron and trusted both him and his knot as he lowered her down to grab the figure. She tucked the item into her belt-pouch, then curled up, grabbed Ron's shirt and climbed up his body to the spanning rope. Once she was back on the rope, Ron executed a fairly impressive stomach-crunch of his own, caught the spanning rope and untied his feet.

The two teens climbed back to the anchoring tree and descended to the ground. They took a few moments to straighten their clothing as best they could, then presented the figurine to their instructor with a polite bow. Kim's limbs ached and Ron was shaking with fatigue. Yet this had been a fairly straightforward assignment. While the physical execution was strenuous, the planning had been easy.

"Very well done," a voice commented from behind them. The teens turned and found themselves facing Sensei. They quickly bowed to the old man, who returned the formality.

"As I said, your teamwork is showing great improvement," The elder complimented the teens.

"Thank you, Master Sensei," Ron replied, with another bow.

"It really wasn't that much of a challenge," Kim commented, with a slight question on her face.

"What do you mean, Possible-san?" The old man's question was delivered in a tone of polite patience.

"I mean, there wasn't any real planning challenge," Kim expanded. "Sure, it was a physical challenge but the planning was easy."

"Are planning and physical capability the only aspects of teamwork, Possible-san?"

"I don't understand," Kim confessed, after a long minute of thought.

"Did you not learn to trust your partner in this exercise?" The old man prompted.

"Oh!" Kim's face lit up in sudden realization. "I trusted Ron to hold me, dangling upside down a good twenty feet above the pond!"

"And you trusted in his ability to tie a proper knot," Sensei concluded.

"I seem to remember a certain teenager saying that this school's headmaster can be subtle," Kim addressed both Ron and Sensei.

"Yes," Sensei agreed. "He made this statement shortly after the two of you passed another test at the airport."

"Test?" Ron was so surprised that he forgot the manners he usually showed at Yamanouchi.

"Indeed, Stoppable-san," Sensei seemed amused. "An operative on your flight could not reach her bag in the overhead compartment. Another operative's child dropped a toy. A third operative's briefcase sprang open unexpectedly and a fourth operative dropped his cell phone. I wished to determine if you would stop to help such people. I was most pleased with the results."

"I didn't see the guy with the cell phone," Ron confessed.

"Another polite bystander assisted that operative before you saw the phone," Sensei explained.

"Sensei," Kim cut it. "Did those tests have anything to do with the morality debates you've been having with Ron every afternoon?"

"Yori says that you are very perceptive," Sensei complimented her, with a slight grin. "I see that it is so in this case. Yes, Stoppable-san's morality and his willingness to help others are traits that are very important."

"Why?" Kim asked the venerable elder.

"You will learn some of these answers this evening, Possible-san," he informed her. "When the two of you join me for dinner in my quarters."

"It will be our honor to attend," Ron replied, with a respectful bow. Kim quickly joined him. Sensei bowed in turn, and left.

"Well," Kim told her boyfriend, "We'd better really be on our game in a couple of hours."

"Yeah, "Ron agreed. "We've got a sparring session coming up and it won't do for us to be bruised up for a dinner with Sensei."

* * *

Dinnertime that evening found the American teens dressed in freshly laundered training gis, waiting outside Sensei's door. At precisely 6:30 PM, the old man opened the door to greet his guests.

"Sensei, you honor us with your invitation," Ron declared with a formal bow. Kim quickly followed suit.

"And you honor me by accepting," the elder answered, returning the bow and ushering his guests inside.

Inside the door was a fairly small, formal sitting room with two low tables. One table was set for three diners while the other table held several covered containers. Mouth watering aromas wafted up from the containers. Sensei stood behind one setting while Kim and Ron each stood behind another, facing the old man.

"Please be seated," Sensei offered.

"Sensei, will you allow me the honor of serving the meal?" Ron asked, instead of sitting.

"Indeed, Stoppable-san," Sensei permitted, with a smile. Kim was puzzled, wondering what had just taken place.

She pushed her questions to the back of her mind as Ron served her and Sensei before sitting at his own space.

"I see that you are curious, Possible-san," Sensei observed, after the three had taken the edge off of their hunger.

"Yes, Sensei," Kim answered. "The dining…etiquette isn't what I expected."

"Our customs here are not that of a normal Japanese household," he explained. "In fact, very few outside of Yamanouchi would know appropriate behavior within this room."

"If I may ask sir," Kim responded. "Why didn't someone…coach me on appropriate behavior?"

"Why do you think, Miss Possible?" The old man's gaze was intent.

"Well," she mused. "You could be just amusing yourself by watching me make a fool of myself, but that doesn't seem to be your style."

"Indeed," Sensei agreed. "There is no honor in such actions."

"You could also be putting me into a strange situation to see how I react." Kim suggested.

"You are reasonably close with that guess," Sensei informed her. "Let me tell you that you haven't acted inappropriately. How have you managed to do that?"

"I just followed Ron's lead," she admitted.

"Why did you do this?" His gaze was very intent for such a simple question.

"Because he's more familiar with this sitch than I am," she answered. "Sensei, is this some sort of lesson, or maybe a test?"

"It can be both at once, Possible-san," the old man informed her. "As well as an excuse for dining with interesting company. But back to the matter at hand, what else have you learned today?"

"I learned to trust Ron and to trust the knot he tied," Kim pondered. "Which is really the same thing." She frowned. "I still don't see what that has to do with this meal."

"Try saying your lessons out loud, Possible-san," Sensei suggested.

"I've learned to trust Ron," she recited. "I've learned to trust his ability. I've learned to follow his lead in situations where he's…better equipped…than I am." She thought for a few minutes. "Okay, I've just learned that, although we're really close, Ron and I have done things apart from each other. I should make use of his…exclusive knowledge."

"Is it only the traits he has picked up, when separated from you, that you should consider?" Sensei prompted.

"I don't understand," Kim confessed.

"Have you noted any other facets in which he has proven more capable than you?"

"You mean like cooking?" Kim asked.

"That is one skill," Sensei pointed out. "But has Stoppable-san ever 'stepped up' and done something on one of your missions, without relying upon 'dumb luck,' that you could not have done?"

Kim pushed her thoughts back to previous missions. She first considered the mission that rescued this same old man from Monkeyfist's clutches. While Ron had acquitted himself well against the villain, she could have done the same. Then she considered rescuing the quasi-celebrity couple from the cabin. The hiking, climbing, and rappelling had all been strenuous, but they had both undergone the same ordeal. While Ron had pulled the toboggan, with the heiress on it, on the way out, Kim could have done the same thing. Ron had prepared a meal for the couple, but a couple of cans of soup would have had the same effect. He had also…

"I think I understand!" Kim exclaimed. "We rescued a couple from a snowbound cabin. When we got there, they were at each other's throats, probably because they were tired, hungry, and scared. Ron sort of stepped up and got them focused on something else. He unpacked their gear and had me fit them out while he prepared a meal for them. They calmed down once they had food in their stomachs and a plan to get out."

"Very good, Possible-san," the old man complimented her. "What lesson can you glean from that experience?"

"I would say to let Ron deal with frightened people," Kim mused. "But your education doesn't seem to deal in specifics. You like to deal in generalities, so I assume you want a more broad answer that includes my first answer?"

Sensei nodded once, slowly, with a smile on his face.

"Okay, here goes," Kim said. "I have to accept that Ron, and others around me, are going to be just as good, or even better, at some things than I am. I need to accept this and not allow my own competitiveness to make me do something foolish."

"Very close, Possible-san," Sensei's voice was very happy. "The lesson I sought to instill was that you, as the leader, must seek to employ your follower's unique talents, rather than attempting to do everything yourself."

"Ron is my partner," Kim insisted. "Not my follower."

"If I may, Sensei?" Ron cut in. Sensei nodded to the younger man.

"I **am** your follower on the missions," Ron explained to Kim. "Just like Wade is our support system. I don't mind, in fact I insist on it. KP, you're the best one to make the mission decisions. Sure, Wade might actually be smarter than you, but he isn't as good at making the calls when the pressure's on."

"Okay, so I call the shots," Kim allowed. "But there's still something missing. Sensei, I can't believe that you would call us all the way here just to tell me to make use of Ron's unique abilities. There's something that goes beyond all the physical and synergy training."

"Indeed there is, Possible-san." Sensei agreed with her. "And it is now time for more secrets to be revealed. But first, what do you know about Stoppable-san's Mystical Monkey Power?"

"Just a little more than what you told me in Arizona," Kim replied. " I know that it enhances his Tai Sheng Pek Kwar skills, that he can use it to communicate with you, and that he can use it to accelerate his healing."

"Indeed, Possible-san," the old said. "Now, I shall reveal two more aspects of this power's manifestations within Stoppable-san. The first aspect is what we refer to as the Ultimate Monkey Master. Stoppable-san has an influence upon all things simian. This aspect manifested itself within Stoppable-san during his last struggle with Lord Fisk."

"Ron can command monkeys?" Kim gave her BFBF a hard look.

"Command is too strong a term, Possible-san," Sensei corrected. "Stoppable-san is capable of **influencing**monkeys. The subject of his influence experiences what you would consider a strong suggestion. Therefore, he has a greater chance of success when he tries to cause a monkey to perform an action that is not…out of character for the monkey to perform. For instance, during his fight with Fisk, he influenced the last of Fisk's trained monkeys to leave in peace. Had Stoppable-san attempted to make the monkey attack Fisk, he certainly would have failed."

"Just how strong of a suggestion is he capable of delivering?" Kim asked.

"How do you quantify the strength of suggestion, Possible-san?" The old man asked in return. When Kim couldn't answer he continued. "Stoppable-san is now able to influence a trained monkey to ignore its training and act in accordance with its own nature. As Stoppable-san continues his efforts to attune himself with the Mystical Monkey Power, his influence will grow stronger."

"Okay, I think I can understand that," Kim mused. "He can get monkeys to do things that he tells them to. Does that mean he can communicate with them?"

'Very perceptive, Possible-san," Sensei approved. "Yet, even with this ability monkeys will remain…monkeys. They are only able to convey to him and understand from him, that what their minds are capable of grasping."

"In other words, don't influence a spider monkey to try to do my algebra homework?" Ron sought clarification.

"I see you are using your humor to see if you understand," Senseichuckled. "You are correct, of course. You will be able to influence simians to perform acts that are within their abilities. Being the Supreme Monkey Master will not give your subjects abilities that they do not posses. We have already discussed the ethical concerns."

"Ethical concerns?" Kim definitely wanted to know when ethics and her boyfriend intersected.

"That's what all of the morality and honor debates have been about," Ron explained. "Just because I **can** influence a monkey doesn't mean that I **should**influence a monkey. I think that's part of the reason that the MMP hasn't embraced Monty."

"Indeed, Stoppable-san," Sensei agreed. "Lord Fisk has, in the past, instructed his trained monkeys to attack trained martial artists, even though he knew that they stood no chance against them. This is an abuse of his influence, using the monkeys as cannon fodder, if you will. Stoppable-san's…morality…is a reason why the Mystical Monkey Power has chosen to manifest this aspect in him."

"I think I can grasp this," Kim replied. "But you said that you had two aspects to reveal to me."

"Yes, Possible-san," the old man confirmed. "The Mystical Monkey Power may, under certain circumstances, enhance Stoppable-san's physical abilities. It may give him short bursts of enhanced strength, speed, and agility. Stoppable-san was able to utilize this aspect, as well, in his last confrontation with Lord Fisk."

"So Ron can become some kind of superman when he wants to?" Kim asked.

"It is not fully controlled by his desire, but rather by his need and the severity of the situation," Sensei corrected her. "Let me offer an example. During Stoppable-san's last struggle, Lord Fisk had gained the upper hand and was strangling him. Stoppable-san realized that if he fell, Lord Fisk would become a raving madman. Stoppable-san also knew that he had been getting the better of Lord Fisk. When Stoppable-san accepted his duty to halt Fisk, the Mystical Monkey Power enhanced his strength so that he could protect the world from an irrational murderer. Since Stoppable-san knew that he was a match for Fisk, the Mystical Monkey Power granted him only a slight enhancement."

"Now," Sensei continued. "Let us look at a hypothetical situation; Stoppable-san playing on your high school football team. Place him as a cornerback, with time running out and your team up by four points. The opposing receiver breaks past him and is heading for the endzone. The opposing quarterback throws the pass, it's on target, and the receiver has two steps on Stoppable-san. The Mystical Monkey Power will not enhance Stoppable-san's speed, since Stoppable-san knows that the consequence of failure, a lost game, simply isn't severe."

"Uh, Sensei," Ron said. "I understand the Allegheny…"

"Analogy," Kim interjected.

"That too," Ron continued. "About the football game, but I just didn't peg you for a football fan."

"I greatly enjoy American rules football," The old man replied.

"So let me get this straight," Kim decided that it was time for confirmation. "The MMP will crank Ron up, depending on how much he needs it to, and how much is at stake?"

"And how attuned he is to the power," Sensei added. "Even given the danger he found himself in, and the serious consequences for failure, the Mystical Monkey Power was able to enhance him just enough to defeat Fisk. I doubt that he would have been able to defeat the green woman, Shego."

Kim and Ron sat, eating silently for several minutes, dealing with what Sensei had just revealed to Kim. Finally, Kim organized her additional concerns.

"Ron?" She asked her best friend/boyfriend/partner. "How much of this do your parents know?"

"Nothing," he answered, clearly unhappy with the fact. "They think that this is simply a cultural exchange program, that Monty is some whacked-out criminal who's fixated on me, and that I've gotten tougher by helping you and spending time on the wrestling mat."

Kim nodded.

"Sensei, there's still more that you haven't revealed, isn't there?" Her tone was very polite when addressing the elder.

"Indeed, child," for some reason, she wasn't offended when he called her that. "There are things that I have revealed to Stoppable-san, but not to you and there are things that I have not revealed even to Stoppable-san. Some items I may reveal to either, or both of you in the future. Some items I will keep secret, even to my full-time students."

Kim nodded again, she didn't like secrets, but she could appreciate the old man's responsibilities.

"If you don't mind me asking, what will we try to accomplish during our last week?"

"There will be much more of the same," answered the headmaster. "We will continue to hone both of your physical abilities and individual martial arts skills. The two of you will continue to receive teamwork training, both combat and otherwise. You, Possible-san, shall receive continued continuing leadership training, under more grueling conditions. Finally, Stoppable-san shall receive more training to attune himself with the Mystical Monkey Power, as well as training in American rules football."

"Football?" Ron blurted out, forgetting his manners for the moment. "Why are you going to teach me football?"

"Several reasons, young Stoppable," Sensei took no offense at Ron's outburst. "First, your success on the football field will provide more cover for Yamanouchi, by providing an alternate explanation for your growing confidence. Secondly, as I said before, I enjoy watching American rules football, and I will be able to see you compete if you become a starter. The final reason deals with young Possible here."

"Me?" Kim had also forgotten her manners.

"You cheer at the football games, do you not?"

Kim nodded.

"If we work with Stoppable-san, his natural speed and agility will make him a starter," Sensei's face broke out with a very wide smile. "Possible-san, don't you like the idea of cheering for your boyfriend?"

_A/N: I would like to thank everybody, again, who has read and reviewed. I would like to send out a big thank you to Joe Stoppinghem for his Beta services. I also must appologize for failing to mention Joe's assistance in the last chapter. _


	5. Legal Proceedings and Departures

_Hello again, dear readers. I may be sounding like a broken record (for those of us old enough to remember records) but I have to thank everyone who has read this story. I would like to offer a special thanks to everyone who has taken the time to leave a review. Finally, my biggest thanks go to Joe Stoppinghem, my ever-patient beta reader. Thanks Joe._

* * *

Chapter 5: Legal Proceedings and Departures

"So, your honor, I submit that the defendant, Lord Montgomery Fisk, is mentally incompetent to stand trial." Mr. Longwind concluded his presentation.

""What is the state's opinion?" Judge Dreven asked, looking around his chambers at the small group assembled for this discussion.

"The state concurs, your honor." Dr. Phillips, a clinical psychologist and psychoanalyst in the State of Colorado's employment, answered him.

"That seems a little odd," the judge commented with a wry grin. "Usually the defendant's expert witnesses and the state's experts can't even agree on the day of the week. Would either of you care to tell me, in layman's terms, just what's wrong with Mr. Fisk?"

Dr. Meadowbrook, the expert Bates had hired, glanced at his counterpart before responding.

"If neither you nor Dr. Phillips has an objection, you honor, I'll give you my interpretation and let my colleague explain where his opinion differs, after I'm finished."

At Dr. Phillips's nod, the judge motioned for Meadowbrook to continue.

"The subject, Lord Montgomery Fisk, has constructed an elaborate fantasy world," the good doctor began. "In my learned opinion, Lord Fisk suffers from, in layman's terms, a superiority complex. Mr. Fisk was a highly educated archeologist who had gained the respect of his peers in this field. Mr. Fisk had also mastered a martial arts discipline known as monkey kung fu. Unfortunately for Mr. Fisk, he lived a highly isolated existence. His only constant companion, Mr. Bates here, is Fisk's paid servant. The years Fisk has spent with his only constant, human contact being subordinate to him has convinced him that **all** humanity should be subordinate to him."

"This belief in his own superiority," Dr. Meadowbrook continued. "Caused conflict during his infrequent contacts with persons other than Mr. Bates. While other archeologists and martial artists respected him, they did not subordinate themselves to him. To this end, he constructed an elaborate reality in which he could combine his two successful undertakings, archeology and kung fu, to gain mastery over all primates, including human beings. He believed that he could use four ancient idols to gain a magic force he calls the Mystical Monkey Power. He even went so far as to request assistance from Kim Possible to retrieve one of these idols."

"He faced another conflict when he collected the four idols, but did not become an all powerful magician. He resolved this conflict by believing that Mr. Ronald Stoppable, Kim Possible's assistant, stole this power from him. He then constructed the reality that he could still gain this magic by killing and dismembering Mr. Stoppable. He was attempting to play out this fantasy during his actions in Middleton a few weeks ago."

"Dr. Phillips, do you have any contradictions to offer?" Judge Dreven asked.

"Nothing of substance, your honor," answered Dr. Phillips. "I take some minor issues with how Fisk got to this point, but I agree with the assessment. Fisk is delusional, believing that Stoppable holds magic that's rightfully his."

"I heard that if you were to give five psychologists the same patient, you'd get at least four diagnosis," the judge mused. "And if you were to give ten psychologists the same patient, you'd get eleven diagnosis. How is it that the two of you agree?"

"We're not in complete agreement, your honor," Meadowbrook corrected the judge. "But we agree on the substantial issues. Our biggest disagreement seems to be legal. For instance, it's my opinion that Fisk feels that he's justified in attempting to kill Stoppable, since he believes that Stoppable stole magic from him."

"While I've come to the conclusion that Fisk understands his attempts were wrong, but he feels himself to be above our laws," Phillips added.

"I hear attempts, as in plural," Judge Dreven frowned. "What all has Fisk done?"

"In addition to his assault in Middleton, he instigated an attack back in February." The DA informed the judge. "He apparently kidnapped a Japanese high-school headmaster and used the man as bait to draw Mr. Stoppable into a trap. The Japanese Embassy informed the FBI that they wouldn't press charges and asked everyone here to drop all charges. Team Possible didn't file charges either."

"Which makes the entire incident inadmissible and therefore irrelevant." Mr. Longwind pointed out.

"So, requests and recommendations," Judge Dreven announced. "Defense, I'll let you go first."

Meadowbrook shared a glance with Longwind before speaking. "Prison isn't the answer for Fisk," he said. "It won't have the desired effect. In his fantasy world, he'll perceive it as another injustice, an attempt to keep him from Stoppable and the magic that's his birthright. I recommend confinement in the state's Human Services Center until such time that he's deemed competent to function in society."

"State?" The judge looked to the DA and Phillips.

"The State concurs with one addition," the DA announced. "We want him in the maximum security wing. He's dangerous. He will escape and attack Stoppable, and anybody who's in his way, if he can."

"Agreed," Meadowbrook jumped in before the judge could prompt him. "In addition, his estate has hired me to provide therapy, beyond what the staff will provide. If I have regular access to him, I believe that we can get him to accept reality. State personnel will be welcome to observe all such sessions, of course."

"The State accepts," the DA announced.

"Very well, all parties are in agreement." Judge Dreven rose to his feet, prompting all others present to do the same. "Mr. DA, write up this agreement and get it to the defense attorney. Gentlemen, this has been about the quickest I can recall such a high profile case being resolved. I commend all of you on your cooperation. I'll expect this agreement on my desk, for my acceptance, no later than Tuesday Morning."

Judge Dreven was very satisfied. He had scheduled two full days to deal with the Lord Fisk issue, but it had taken less than two hours. He called his secretary and instructed him to reschedule work to take advantage of the suddenly free time. With any luck, he'd actually get to do some fishing this weekend.

* * *

"So, Lipsky, you're ready to make a statement?" Dr. Drakken's tormentor looked at him with bored contempt.

"Indeed I am," Drakken replied, ignoring his lawyer's glare. "Provided you fulfill your side of the bargain I instructed my lawyer to pursue.

The general nodded to the man to his left.

"We have an agreement," Mr. Ulithi, a representative of the UN's World Court, informed him. "If you provide us with the information needed to expedite your underlings' trials, you will be transferred to The Hague, immediately, and face all subsequent legal proceedings in Holland. As the Dutch will not allow an execution on their soil, you will face, at worst, life imprisonment with no possibility of parole."

"We find this acceptable," Drakken's lawyer said, without much enthusiasm.

"Let's hear the story." The general sounded almost bored.

"Very well, it's time that I, as you say, came clean. I want you to know that I was the only individual who knew the full extent of my plans. While several of my subordinates were key in executing various elements to my overall strategy, none knew the full extent until the final phase."

"Riiiiiight, Lipsky," the General had an almost amused expression to match his condescending tone. "You put it all together yourself. You're going to have to be a lot more convincing if I'm going to believe that."

"Just what does my client have to gain," Drakken's lawyer snapped. "By taking responsibility for the entire incident?"

"I find myself agreeing with the attorney," Mr. Ulithi confessed.

"Mr. Ulithi," the General's tone showed that he could show respect and proper protocol when he wished. "You do not have a great deal of experience dealing with this…man. I, on the other hand, have received extensive briefings and have studied his past actions. Mr. Lipsky is attempting to manipulate us at this moment. He has already avoided the death penalty. Now, he's attempting to lessen his subordinates' sentences. Say that he trivializes that green woman, Shego's, part in all this. She'll get a sentence of about five years. After that time, she'll make contact with her extensive network of informants and underworld figures, and find out where you're holding this man. After that, she'll break him out and we're all back to where we were a couple of months ago."

"That's pure speculation!" Drakken's lawyer interrupted.

"This isn't a trial, mister," the General responded. "I'm free to speculate all I want."

"I will admit that you paint a logical scenario," Drakken admitted. "And I admit that Shego and myself have utilized similar tactics in the past. However, General, there are a few things that you either do not know, or simply fail to appreciate."

"The first thing that you are not taking into consideration, General, is that I operated a criminal organization. Yes, I freely admit that I am a criminal. This means, General, that I could not trust my underlings since they were, by definition, criminals themselves. Had any of my major assistants discerned my complete plan, he or she may have eliminated me and executed the plan themselves. Therefore, the only way I could be sure that I remained alive long enough to conquer the world was to make sure that none of my subordinates knew exactly what I was up to. The only thing any of them knew was what I expected of them, my ultimate goal, and the rewards they would reap once I attained it."

"That brings up another point," Drakken continued. "You probably don't grasp the concept of 'promotion by elimination.' You attained your four-star rank by faithfully executing your duties as a three-star General. A criminal organization does not work like that, General. In a criminal organization, you only move up the ladder when someone up higher falls, usually with fatal results. Therefore, I constantly faced the very real possibility, even before I implemented my scheme, that some underling would eliminate me in order to move up the ladder. One of my defenses against this was to make sure that I was the only one who knew the summation and location of all of my assets. That way, everybody knew that if I were to catch a serious case of death, the entire organization would fall apart."

"Finally, there's my own sense of current, self-preservation. I'm a wanted man, General, and I'm not referring to law enforcement. My lawyer informs me that my recent activities have proven a catalyst for international cooperation against crime. My former colleagues are not fools, General, they know that I'm the root cause of their current difficulties. These are not the sort of people who sue or make threats, General, they will kill me. My only hope of survival is to find sanctuary, and a maximum security prison is my only current option."

"Therefore, I am ready to speak," Drakken concluded. "I have no more loyalty to my underlings than they have for me. I'm not determined to see the mission through, like you would be. Instead, if I cannot rule the world I would rather nobody manage the feat."

"Very well," the General nodded. "Tell us the whole story."

Drakken spoke for the better part of an hour, telling his audience how he had formulated the strategy. Once he had developed the diablo toys and the method of powering them, he had executed several undertakings, simultaneously. He had formed a separate team for each undertaking and had carefully limited the interactions between the teams.

"So you say that the toy company team, the reactor team, the distribution team, the synthodrone team, and the tactical team didn't know anything about each other?" The General's tone was equal parts disbelief and admiration.

"Not exactly," Drakken replied. "They all knew that there was someone out there, either providing them with, or making use of, their resources. I was the only one who coordinated between the teams."

"Okay, I can accept that," the General conceded. "What about Shego? She seems to have known the entire plan."

"Again, not exactly," Drakken corrected. "First of all, Shego knew that I intended to take over the world. However, she and the rest of my tactical team didn't know the full details until I executed the worldwide attack. Secondly, you must know that Shego isn't interested in controlling the world. She realizes that she isn't emotionally suited to deal with the numerous, irritating details that such control would require. Instead, she is my enforcer. She takes care of security, performs the dangerous, crucial tasks that come up, and makes sure that my other underlings do their jobs."

"Did she or did she not know your plan?" Ulithi was the one asking this time.

"I briefed her on the entire plan one week before I panicked and executed my attack, prematurely. She knew some details about each of my teams but she hadn't put all of the pieces together until I informed her."

"She didn't figure it out, or you don't think she had figured it out?" The General wasn't making this easy.

"General, I'm reasonably certain that you've been observing her, and that you've availed yourself of the opportunity to review all observations, of her, that numerous law enforcement agencies have compiled. You know her limitations as well as I do. She is competent, frighteningly so, at straightforward tasks. Give her a task and resources, and she will execute the task with incredible efficiency. She isn't, however, given to deep thought. She doesn't bother with why I give her tasks, she simply concentrates on doing her work and acquiring her rewards. Believe me, she was gratifyingly surprised at the scale of my assault."

Ulithi and the General shared a long look.

"You'd better write your mother and any friends you may have," the General informed his prisoner. "You're going to Holland as soon as we can arrange transport. You're still going to be testifying in front of congressional committees, but you'll be doing that via a television camera. I'd like to wish you good luck, Drakken, but I just cant' bring myself to do it."

Drakken nodded to his audience before following a guard from the interview room back to his cell. He hoped that the plan, which the General had come very close to describing, would work out.

* * *

"Possible-san, would you accompany me on a short walk?" Yori approached Kim, as the redhead was packing for the next day's departure from Yamanouchi.

"Is there a problem?" Kim asked, immediately joining the Japanese girl.

"There is no problem, Possible-san, but I wished to show you two…analogies…that Stoppable-san used to describe the two of you. I feel that it may provide you with some insights to his thoughts."

Kim followed Yori, flinching a little bit at the tightness in her thigh muscles. The morning had been the last conditioning exercise the American teens would endure this visit, and their hosts seemed determined to make sure that they would remember it for weeks to come. Despite Kim's soreness, they soon found themselves on Yamanouchi's outer wall, where a pair of telescopes waited them. Kim frowned slightly; the late afternoon was far too bright to observe the stars and the telescopes were pointed downward, towards the lower foothills.

"First, Possible-san, I would like you to look through both telescopes," Yori instructed Kim. "Then we will discuss what you have seen."

"I saw a bridge, under construction, through the first telescope," Kim reported, a few minutes later. "And I saw a bridge, being used, through the second one."

"Very good, Possible-san," Yori conceded. "What else can you tell me about the second bridge?"

Kim thought hard for a few minutes, then looked through the second telescope again.

"There's some sort of maintenance crew working on it" she reported. "It looks like they're painting the metal parts."

"Can you guess why they are doing so?"

"Routine maintenance would be my guess," Kim actually rolled her eyes a little. "I mean, they have to keep the bridge repaired, or it will fall down."

"Excellent, Possible-san," Yori nodded. "I will now tell you what Stoppable-san told Sensei. Sensei had asked Stoppable-san to pick out two examples of the two of you. One of the examples he picked out was the two groups of men working on the bridges. He said the crew building the new bridge represented you, while the crew maintaining the second bridge represented himself. Do you care to know why, Possible-san?"

Kim nodded.

"Stoppable-san considers the crew building the bridge to represent you. Much like them, you have a feat to accomplish. Once you accomplish your feat, much like the construction crew with the bridge, you move on to the next feat."

Kim drank in the wisdom of this observation. She saw her life as a series of one-shot challenges: Stop Dementer from stealing that Vortex Inducer, then start studying for the Chemistry test. Win a cheerleading competition, then plan the Winter Formal. While Ron…"

"Stoppable-san considers the maintenance crew on the second bridge to represent himself," Yori continued.

"Because he holds one task important," Kim interrupted. "Covering my back."

Kim appreciated the analogy. While she was no maintenance expert, she could guess some of the tasks that the maintenance crew needed to perform. Whether they were painting, resurfacing the roadway, or inspecting the load-bearing structure, the task remained the same; keep the bridge in operation. Ron might have to run around a dozen henchmen too reach a self-destruct button, travel to South America too find a rare flower, or help decorate the gym for a dance, but his task remained the same; support Kim Possible.

"This analogy has another, accurate aspect," Kim continued. "I noticed the work crew building the bridge right away. I didn't notice the maintenance crew until I was specifically looking for them. Most people are the same way; they notice me saving the world but they don't notice Ron helping me do it."

"He did not mention this aspect to Sensei," Yori confessed. "And I, myself, did not consider it. It is good that you recognized it."

"Sensei also instructed him to find an analogy for the relationship the two of you share," Yori said, moving on to the next topic. "He chose the lake you see below us."

Kim looked down, outside of the wall, at the same lake that she and Ron had recovered the figurine from. At the upper end of the lake, where Yori pointed, a mountain stream rushed into the calm body of water.

"I hate to admit it, but I really don't understand it." Kim confessed.

"Perhaps a bit of verse Stoppable-san used to explain his reasoning will help," her companion offered. "The wild torrent meets the docile lake, where they merge with tumultuous harmony."

Kim thought about that, having a little trouble associating such a saying with Ron, while she studied the scene below her. It seemed very appropriate for them. She was constantly involving herself in just about everything she could and would likely wear herself to nothing if he didn't occasionally make her slow down. On the other hand, he would very likely go stagnant if she didn't occasionally kick him out of his stupor. The 'tumultuous harmony' part of it was pretty accurate, as well. They had their disagreements and arguments, but they never pushed the two of them apart. As for the 'merging' part…

"Yori, that statement is both apt and beautiful," she told her companion. "And maybe just a little erotic," a slight blush found its way to Kim's face.

"Much as the two of you," Yori giggled at Kim's discomfort. "It is nothing to be ashamed of, my friend." Kim smiled at Yori's term. "The two of you are exploring your compatibility, much as myself and Felix-kun."

Kim chose to not ask any questions about her and Felix. Ron's best human, male friend was an all-around good guy, and Yori seemed to be a truly wonderful young woman (wonderful enough that Kim still didn't like the idea of her and Ron in close proximity, at least when she wasn't close at hand). They had a big obstacle to overcome, in that they were teenagers pursuing a very long distant relationship, but the two of them seemed extraordinarily patient. She smiled, thinking that it was nice to see Felix actually indulging in some dating activity.

Kim looked over the vista arrayed below her. This had been a hard, but very beneficial month. While she hadn't experienced the self-discovery that Ron had during his first visit, she had learned more about herself, her BFBF, and them, than she would have thought possible. Because of this month, he was a better assistant; they were a better team, and they were a stronger couple. Sure, they hadn't had any opportunity for 'alone' time, but the shared hardships and triumphs had somehow drawn them even closer. Now she, like Ron, would always have fond memories of Yamanouchi.


	6. Progress and Completion

Chapter 6: Progress and Completion

"_Please explain what you are attempting to accomplish," _due to the flat nature of the synthesized voice, it was difficult for Amy to determine if the statement was a demand or a request.

"Of course," Amy had been expecting this meeting for weeks. "First, how much do you know about genetics?"

"_Little more than a high school student,"_ the man admitted_. "You will need to use layman's terms to explain what you are doing."_

"I can do this," Amy agreed. In fact, she knew very well that her employer wasn't a technical genius in any cutting-edge scientific field. She had asked the question to determine if he had some delusions about understanding her cutting-edge work. She didn't need to worry, he had made his staggering fortune by finding commercial applications for scientists' cutting edge work. He also had a well-earned reputation for compensating and recognizing these scientists for their work.

"My ultimate goal is, of course, to provide you with a perfectly healthy, functional, permanent body," she continued. "In order to do this, I must perfect a technique I call gene prompting. I will find your genetic ideal; actually I have already done that, then I will add some…repair genes to your body and prompt these genes to correct the imperfections."

"_Question…haven't you already perfected genetic manipulation…question."_

"I have already managed to mix two, living creatures, genetically, into a single being. However, when I do this, the resulting creature is unstable. First, the creature has a limited life span and secondly, the creature tends to be highly aggressive. We are not trying to create a random hybrid here, we're altering your living body to what it should have been."

"_Question…what are repair genes…question."_

"Repair genes my be an incorrect term…restructuring genes is a better descriptor. I make use of butterfly and moth genetics for this. You understand why these insects spin cocoons, don't you?"

"_It has something to do with maturing from their caterpillar to their adult forms."_

"Exactly, they completely restructure their bodies. Your cure will take four steps: The first step, finding your genetic ideal, is finished. Secondly, I will take cell samples from your body and alter their DNA to match this ideal. Third, I will return these cells to your body and inject behavioral hormones so that these cells replace your existing cells. Finally, I will place you in what I call an artificial womb, inject these restructuring cells into you body, and activate them. Your body will restructure itself to match your cells' new genetic configuration, which will be your genetic ideal."

"_Question…what progress have you made at this time…question."_

"I'll show you," Amy offered, leading him to a series of pens. "My first step is complete. Here you see where I have mixed added desirable genetics traits from one creature onto an existing creature." She gestured to her hybrid animals. "Here, I have injected specific DNA traits from one animal into another."

DNAmy's employer saw three pens, each of which held four creatures he had never seen before.

"Badgealope, Wolfaroo Rat, and Bearairie Dog," Amy explained. "I derived the first species by splicing certain badger traits into an antelope, the second by adding kangaroo rat aspects to a wolf and the third by adding prairie dog traits to a black bear. I accomplished all of this by using the technique I explained earlier."

"Question…are you ready for me at this time…question."

"No," Amy shook her head. "It took me two tries to perfect the technique to get the results you see. The results of the failed tests were…unpleasant and nauseating. I won't proceed with you until I've perfected the technique for your, unique application."

"_Question…how will you know you have perfected the technique…question."_

"My testing will go as follows," Amy replied. "I am moving to primates, for the genetic similarity. First, I shall cut off a monkey's arm and use this technique to re-grow the severed appendage. Secondly, I shall use this technique to cure a monkey suffering from Multiple Sclerosis. Finally, I shall convert a spider monkey into a howler monkey. When I can perform these tasks consistently, I will know that I'm ready to fulfill my obligation to you. Please be patient."

"_Patience is not difficult,"_ the man's face twitched into what might have been an attempt at a grin. _"You have an actual plan and have made more progress in four weeks than the rest of my experts have in years. It is fortunate that I established this laboratory in Belize, where monkeys are plentiful and the officials more…forgiving. I will now return to my corporate offices in the States. Continue your work. Keep me updated as to your progress and let me know if you require anything."_

* * *

"You question my judgement, child?" Sensei's voice was gentle, his statement truly a question and not a challenge. He and Yori watched the dwindling figures of Kim and Ron, descending the mountain on their way back to their home.

"Never, Master," Yori protested.

"You will never speak so," the old man smiled at his pupil. "But you still question in your mind. Speak these questions now! Seeking my reasons is part of your education."

"Very well, Master. Why did you not inform Possible-san about the Lotus Blade, and why did you not tell her that Stoppable-san is the keeper of the blade?"

"I do this to safeguard our school, young one. Possible-san is very aggressive and driven to succeed. If she knew of the weapon under Stoppable-san's command, she would be tempted to utilize it in the course of her life. Stoppable-san is devoted to her and would not hold back if she requested he make use of the blade. I do not wish Yamanouchi to be exposed so that Team Possible can hinder a trivial crime."

"This makes sense to me, master, but what about Stoppable-san? Did you inform him of the full extent his…influence…over primates could attain?"

"No, child," the elder shook his head. "Stoppable san is a very good boy but his devotion to Possible-san's well being could work against him. If he were to know that his influence will eventually grow to include all primates, including humans, he may be tempted to use this influence to assist or defend Possible-san."

"Stoppable-san would never force another to do his bidding!" Yori protested.

"I agree that it is highly unlikely," Sensei agreed. "But if he were put into a situation where he could use this influence to save a life, he would use this influence. I choose to keep such temptation away from him until such time that he is better prepared to confront it." The old man grew more thoughtful than usual. "His past has given him a very strong sense of morality. The influences that his friends, teachers, parents, and religious figures have exerted upon him have made him uniquely acceptable to the Mystical Monkey Power. I wonder if another could be molded in the same manner."

"I do not understand, Master." Yori admitted.

"I am not sure if I do," Sensei smiled at her. "I am merely an old man pondering some possibilities. Stoppable-san's life, his upbringing, has left him in a position to attune himself, very harmoniously, to the Mystical Monkey Power. It would be most beneficial to attune others in the same manner. The question is how to perform this feat."

"Another would need to experience his life," Yori answered. "Wouldn't they?"

"Perhaps child, but a life once lived can never be perfectly duplicated. I wonder how to go about giving Stoppable-san's experiences to another. One would need to be raised as he did, in his household and with the same influences. Yet therein lies a dilemma; having one raised this way, strictly to gain access to the Mystical Monkey Power would be a moral wrong. How could we cause one to be raised in this manner, without crossing that ethical boundary?"

"I do not know, Master," Yori responded.

Master and student thought deeply as they watched the two Americans vanish into the distance.

* * *

Kim and Ron strode down the trail from Yamanouchi. While both had some sore muscles, they were happy and content. They had both learned a great deal in the past month and, despite the long days and hard work, had grown closer to each other. Where the trail was wide enough to walk side by side, they held hands.

"So, what did you think about my…third home?" Ron asked.

"Third home?"

"Yeah, my own home is my first home, your house is my second home, so that means that Yamanouchi is my third home."

"Quite the place," Kim giggled. "The food is different, the beds are nice and firm but the exercise program makes strenuous an understatement." She paused, then gave Ron's (very solid) stomach a playful swat. "But I can't argue with the results."

"It does a body good, doesn't it?" Ron grinned back.

"It's been good for both of us," Kim replied, then sighed. "But there are still secrets, aren't there?"

"Yeah, there are," Ron admitted. "But I can accept that."

"Why, Ron?" Kim demanded. "If you're going to become even stronger, shouldn't you know everything?"

"I don't think so," he answered. "Sensei explained his reasons to me. He used your brothers as an example."

"The tweebs? What do they have to do with this?"

"Think of it," Ron explained. "They have incredible knowledge but no restraint. The only thing that keeps them from being even more dangerous is the fact that they don't have the resources to build the things they want to. Hopefully, by the time they're old enough to gain these resources, they'll have the restraint to not do some of the things they want to. With me, I have a lot of growing up to do before I'll be responsible enough to handle the full MMP. Sensei said that I'll grow up best doing what I'm doing right now, helping you help people. He'll arrange for me to come back next summer, as well."

"What about me? Will I be invited?"

"To be honest, KP," he said, flustered about his oversight, "I didn't think to ask."

Kim fumed for a few minutes before realizing that she was living a little bit of Ron's world. She was experiencing being the one who could be overlooked. She wondered at the fact that Ron had put up with it so well, for so long.

"I know I've asked you this before," she broke the silence after a few minutes. "But I'm going to ask again. Are you sure that your Mystical Monkey Power didn't make you a better wrestler, and are you sure that you can keep from using it to be a better football player? I don't think that it wouldn't be fair to the competition, sort of like using steroids or something."

"KP, the MMP has not, and will not, affect something as trivial as high school sports, at least not directly."

"What do you mean, directly?" Kim's tone had taken on a growling aspect, making Ron feel like she had caught him slipping an extra dessert at a buffet.

"The only full-time thing that it does for me is enhance my Tai Sheng Pek Kwar abilities. Because it enhances these abilities, I can practice the art harder than I could without it. This enhanced workout increases my strength, speed, and balance faster than without the MMP. So it sort of enhances my wrestling in a back-door sort of way."

Kim thought this through, trying to find some sort of immorality in the situation. Finally, she had to concede that there wasn't any. After all, he was practicing his martial arts for a worthy cause. It wasn't his fault that this practice made him a better athlete.

"Okay, fair enough," she gave in. "When do you think I can turn my kimmunicator back on? Wade also has our chips disabled, since we didn't want anyone to track us while at Yamanouchi. When can we have him re-enable them?"

"How about once we reach the road and are waiting for the bus," Ron suggested, after a moment's consideration. "It's a public road, so it won't be letting in any secrets if we're tracked to that location."

"By the way, what happened to that monkey you influenced to not attack you outside the gym?" Kim wondered why that tidbit of curiosity suddenly popped into her head.

"She lived in my tree house for about a week, then Wade arranged for transport to Central America." Ron grinned. "She'd had enough of all the fighting for power and world domination. She just wanted to be a monkey for the rest of her life. I think that makes her smarter than me."

Kim giggled at her boyfriend, conceding his point. "Where did you guys send her?"

"Belize, it's a small country and it's part of a spider monkey's natural range. That gave her the best chance of getting into the forest and finding a group willing to take her in. If they attack her, she **does** have the ninja training."

The two teens continued their walk, enjoying the solitude, the fact that they weren't being drilled relentlessly, and each other's company. Finally, they reached the road and Kim clicked on her kimmunicator. Wade answered within moments.

"Whoa, dude!" Ron exclaimed. "Don't you ever sleep? What time is it there, anyway?"

"Don't ask," Wade replied. "I was kind of waiting for your call, a lot has happened this last month and I'm ready to fill you in on the major issues. By the way, can I get your chips back on line?"

"Sure Wade," Kim answered. "What do you have for us?"

"First of all, the news media is going berserk requesting interviews," Wade started. The teens could see and hear him working his keyboard as he spoke. "I've been able to hold them off by informing them that the two of you are at this cultural exchange but if they don't get some quotes fairly soon, they're going to start getting aggressive."

"Try to set up a briefing with one of the federal prosecutors," Kim requested. "Have the prosecutor brief us on what we can and can't say, then we'll set up some interviews. Let's make some guidelines right now; any interview is going to be with both Ron and myself, and we won't discuss anything that might interfere with the pending legal cases."

"Got it," Wade agreed. "And I've got your chips back on line. Speaking of prosecutors, Motor Ed and Drakken have both plea-bargained, so there won't be any trial for either one. Fisk has been found mentally incompetent to stand trial, so you won't have to worry about testifying against him, either. Shego's going to be the problem."

"**That's** supposed to be news?" Kim grumbled.

"It looks like she's going to fight her charges," Wade explained, with a smile at Kim's remark. "Drakken took most of the guilt onto himself when he made his deal, so Shego has a real chance of keeping her time to a minimum. In fact, as Drakken's official head of security, she will probably claim that she was well within her rights to act the way she did at Bueno Nacho."

"What?" Ron didn't understand legal issues very well.

"Shego's job description was to keep intruders out of Bueno Nacho," Wade pointed out. "And the two of you hadn't presented any sort of warrant. That gave her the right to attack the two of you when you showed up."

"Wait a minute," Kim protested. "She was securing a facility, and persons, engaged in an illegal activity. Secondly, she was using lethal force with no authorization and we have Code Seven authorization from Global Justice. This allows us to investigate global conspiracies, if we have reasonable suspicion, and to halt any such activities we discover. We had full justification for our actions!"

"I know," Wade sighed. "Defining who knew what, and when, is going to make for one really nasty trial. Global Justice has been working with Oscar and Cindy, getting them ready for some nasty innuendo. It might be a good idea for the two of you to get ready for some, as well."

"See if you can schedule us in, please and thank you," Kim instructed her technical backup. "Anything else?"

"Yeah, the local, state, and federal agencies let Channel 6 show the footage they took of your fight on Bueno Nacho's roof. They started showing it yesterday. That's why the media want their interviews so bad. The footage has also generated a lot of hits on the site."

"What kind of hits?" Kim obviously dreaded the answer.

"The vast majority are positive," Wade explained. "Stuff like 'is Ron okay', 'you guys are the greatest' and things like that. About one half of one percent are negative, demanding to know why Ron killed such a cute guy."

"WHAT!" Both of Team Possible's field operatives were so stunned that they didn't think of calling the jinx.

"Hey, there's more that 250 million people living in our country alone," Wade clarified. "Not to mention the rest of the world. At least of few of them are bound to be swayed by a pretty face."

"Like I was," Kim muttered.

"We've been over this," Ron had no intention of letting her wallow in self-loathing. "You changed your attitude once you realized what he…er…it was, so don't put yourself in the same boat as them. You made a mistake and you learned from it. Case closed and on to the next issue."

Kim didn't answer verbally. She simply threw her arms around his neck and planted her mouth on his.

"Uh, guys," Wade interrupted. "Could you hold off on that while we have an inter-continental communications channel open?"

"Sorry Wade," Kim apologized. "I just realized, again, that I have the best boyfriend in the world." Ron turned bright red.

"Um, okay. I don't really have much more to say. I'll give you a more detailed briefing when you get in. Enjoy your trip back." The young genius wiggled his eyebrows suggestively before signing off.

Kim and Ron had a good laugh at that, but both were thinking the same thing: Dealing with the media and the court proceedings might make the Yamanouchi training seem easy.

* * *

_Again, big thanks to my beta; Joe Stoppinghem._


	7. Back Home

Chapter 7: Back Home

_Beep Beep Be-Beep._

The Kimmunicator chimed its tone the moment Kim turned it on, after leaving the airliner at Denver International Airport.

"So what's the sitch?" She used her trademark reply.

"Are you two up for a mission before getting home?" The technical genius asked.

"What do you have for us?"

"The US Forest Service could use some help," Wade informed them. "There's a wildfire in the Rockies outside of Denver. A handful of cabins have been cut off, are in danger of being engulfed, and there's no communication with the occupants. The Colorado National Guard has a helicopter standing by, but they don't have anyone with air rappelling experience."

"We're on it, Wade," Kim informed him, after receiving a nod from Ron. "What do we do?"

"Head to Gate 90," Wade told her. "The airline's baggage handlers are pulling your checked luggage and a representative will link you with it. They'll also have a ride to the airport's General Aviation section. The chopper will pick you up there. Your mission will be to visit each cabin; if it's occupied you'll assist the aircrew with the rescue."

"You rock Wade," Kim signed off. "Let's go Ron!"

Wade and the airline's personnel came through for the two. They both pulled a set of mission gear from their checked baggage and changed in closets that the baggage handlers unlocked for them. A quick ride to the General Aviation section and they were introducing themselves to Captain Ruer, Lieutenant Ranum, Staff Sergeant Ceda, and their CH-47 Chinook helicopter.

"How much do the two of you know about this mission?" The Captain asked.

"Only that there are cut off homes that may or may not be evacuated," Kim replied. "And that you don't have anyone with experience rappelling out of a helicopter."

"Roger that," the Captain said. "The forest is too thick for us to land near these structures, but we'll hover over them so that you can rappel down to them. We have radios for you, so we'll keep in constant contact. We will also scout out possible landing sites in the immediate area. If you find anyone in the structures, we will either winch them up or you will guide them to a landing site, as the situation demands. Understand?"

"Yes ma'am," Kim answered. "You're calling the shots on this one, we're just here to assist."

"Good enough," the Captain smiled. "Let's move out."

The two officers piloted the aircraft while the sergeant stayed in back, with Team Possible, going over the homes that the crew had been assigned to investigate. The sergeant also tested the radios that the crew had given the teens, making sure that the communications were functioning. A few minutes later, they had reached the first structure.

The first three buildings were routine: The chopper was able to drop to roughly thirty feet above the ground, the teens rappelled to the structure, found nobody inside and called this information back to the aircraft. While Sergeant Ceda winched them aboard, Lieutenant Ranum marked off the structure on his map and radioed the search results to the Forest Service Coordinator.

In route to the fourth building, they spotted a party of four hikers on a logging road. Kim and Ron rappelled down to the hikers while the aircrew spotted a usable landing site nearby. Once Team Possible reached the hikers, Sergeant Ceda radioed them to travel two hundred yards at a 165-degree magnetic azimuth. The six people on the ground located the clearing, Captain Ruer landed the aircraft, Sergeant Ceda opened the rear doors and all six scrambled on board. They could smell smoke as Lieutenant Ranum called in the hikers' names on the way to the fourth structure.

A family of five piled out of the fourth home as the Chinook approached. Since there were no clear spaces nearby, Kim and Ron rappelled down and secured the family members, in turn, to the basket Sergeant Ceda lowered to them. After the last family member was safely aboard the aircraft, Kim and Ron piled in the basket, the Sergeant winched them aboard and they were off to the fifth structure. They could now see the smoke in the air.

The sixth structure had no people inside, only a terrified dachshund. Captain Ruer told them to bring the dog back on board the aircraft with them. They then managed to check out three more homes, rescuing two more people, before the Chinook started to run low on fuel. They delivered their twelve passengers (eleven humans and one canine) to an evacuation center then returned to the airport for refueling. Lieutenant Ranum received the next list of structures to investigate as they refueled.

The aircrew and Team Possible continued to work for the next six hours. All told, they rescued over thirty people and four pets by the time the Forest Service declared the area fully evacuated. Kim and Ron were exhausted, sore, hungry, thirsty, and reeking of wood smoke. They had, of course, missed their flight to Middleton and there were no further commercial flights until the next morning. The airline baggage crew had reloaded their checked bags, so they didn't have a change of clothes available. Wade managed to secure them a ride on a catering van but it was after two AM when they finally got home. The two teens had just enough energy left to stumble into their respective homes, shower and collapse into bed.

* * *

Ron slept in late the following morning and didn't feel the slightest bit guilty about it. Rufus joined him as he prepared himself a large meal. He was about to call Kim to ask if she wanted to share it, when his father walked into the kitchen.

"Son, I'm sure that you're thinking of inviting Kim over," Gene Stoppable said. "And I would ordinarily encourage you to do so. However, I have some things that I need to discuss with you and this is best done between the two of us. This isn't an emergency, so finish your brunch, or whatever you want to call it. Meet me in the garage when you're done."

"Besides," he continued. "I'm sure that she's even more tired than you. You were reeking of smoke when you came in last night so I'm willing to bet that she put in some serious effort on her hair last night."

Ron and Rufus neither rushed their meal, nor dallied at the table. Mr. Stoppable hadn't been upset, so Ron clearly wasn't in trouble. The two cleaned up after themselves then went to the garage, where they found Ron's father looking at a set of plans. Ron noticed that the plans were setting on a pile of building materials. He noticed two by fours, sheet rock, several cans of paint, a spool of romax wire, a couple of light fixtures and several electrical boxes.

"Have a seat, son," Gene Stoppable greeted Ron, with a gesture towards a nearby lawn chair. The older Stoppable man found one himself while Ron sat down.

"I really don't know how to start this," Gene confessed. "So I think I'll begin with one of Aesop's Fables: _The Fox and the Lion_. Do you remember it?"

"Yes," It was actually one of Ron's favorite tales.

"I guess you could say that you're the fox and I'm the other animals," Gene continued. "Life is the lion in the cave. I've made a lot of mistakes, son, and I'm truly amazed at how well you've overcome the sometimes…indifferent parenting that I've provided."

Gene appeared to be on the verge of tears, but he squared his shoulders and faced his son.

"We're not here to go over what might have been," he declared. "But still, I guess I'd better start at the beginning. I hope that you can take what I'm about to say in the manner I intend; a criticism of myself rather than you."

"I never really wanted children when I proposed to your mother," Gene informed Ron, after taking a deep, steadying breath. "Again, don't think that you were unwanted. The fact is that I was shallow and selfish and I didn't want to share her with anybody, not even my own flesh and blood. However, I knew that if I got into my forties and we hadn't reproduced, I would probably regret it. For this reason, we went about trying to start our family."

"So when did you decide to have children?" Ron asked, filling in the awkward silence that had followed Gene's confession.

"Four years after we had been married," Gene replied. "Both of us wanted to wait a few years. It gave us a chance to get used to married life before adding a third person." Gene actually smiled. "I still remember her walking into our bedroom while I was laying in bed, reading a book. She informed me that she wanted to start our family, then she informed me that **I** wanted to start our family."

The two men shared a laugh, which eased Gene's tension enough for him to continue.

"Three months later, we found out that you were on the way," Gene continued. "Remember that, son. When the time comes, your wife will inform you that you're ready to have children." The older man sighed. "I was worried about you up until last year. I thought that you were going to be like me, an awkward, social outcast. Now, I'm sure that you're going to make me a grandfather some day."

"Uh, dad…" Ron nervously rubbed the back of his neck. "Kim and I are kinda young to be thinking that far ahead."

"I know, son. While I hope that you and Kim stay together, I understand that you're only sixteen. What I really meant was that this past year, you suddenly were no longer satisfied with 'just good enough.' You became determined to succeed academically, athletically, and socially. Once you earned your spot on the wrestling team and started dating Sue, I knew that you weren't going to be the loner I had been. But let's get back to the point."

"After you came along, I adjusted as best I could. I truly enjoyed you, enjoyed having you in my life, but I couldn't help but feel a little jealous about the time and attention your mother devoted to you. Because of this jealousy, when you were three years old and your mother told me it was time to start thinking about your younger sibling, I balked."

Gene forced himself to meet Ron's eyes and continued. "I didn't have the courage to tell your mother that I really didn't want another child and I convinced myself that as long as we were having intercourse, there was a chance that she would wind up pregnant, like she wanted. Finally, when you were five, despite my secret desires, that chance became reality."

"I remember when she informed me of this," Gene said, with a sad smile. "It was late one evening, I had just gone to bed but I wasn't asleep yet. She told me that I had 'accomplished my husbandly duties.' I knew what she meant, of course, but it seemed like a good time for clever banter. I said 'huh?'"

Father and son shared a smile, but Gene's was short lived.

"Your mother was very happy," he recalled. "Since we had been 'trying' for over two years. I don't know why, maybe pure chance, maybe God was unhappy with my attitude, but a few weeks after she told me her good news, she suffered a miscarriage." Now Ron's smile vanished along with his father's.

"We never told you," his father explained. "Since we thought you'd be too young to understand. We decided that it would just upset you. Instead, we acted like nothing happened and went on with our lives. A lot of the negative things that have happened since this are purely my fault."

"The first are the two issues your mother has," Gene continued. "These aren't just irritating personality quirks, they're real, psychological problems. I can't point to the miscarriage as the cause, but they've gotten worse as time has gone by. She panics whenever she sees either you or me in any form of conflict. She is also subject to anxiety attacks if she spends over an hour away from other adults. Like I said, son, I was selfish and I liked the idea of her being dependent on me. Instead of obtaining help for her, I settled into a life that, if not joyful, was at least familiar. I had a wife and a son who would always need me, and therefore I would never be alone."

"But then, last year, despite my failure to help you become an independent, successful young man, you went out and did it on your own. This was troubling to me. If my sixteen-year old son could turn his life around, what excuse did I have for my life? There weren't any excuses, so I took some actions."

"Son, ever since you left for Japan, your mother and I have been seeing a psychologist, both as a couple and individually. It's early, but we're making progress. I have every confidence that your mother will be able to enjoy watching you play football this fall, and wrestle this winter."

"That will mean a lot to me, dad," Ron said, with heartfelt sincerity.

"That's not all son," his father continued. "We've also come to some decisions. The most important one is that we want to raise another child." The older man raised his hands in a calming gesture. "Don't think for a moment that you're not adequate, son. You've exceeded everything that I could have ever hoped from you, but you're not going to be here that much longer. You'll be a senior this fall, and I'm sure you're going to be heading off to college after that. After college, you're going to be making your own life and your mother and I aren't ready to face an empty nest just yet. There's enough love in this house for two children."

"So do I have a younger sibling on the way?" Ron asked.

"No son" Gene's sad smile had returned. "Both the psychologist and your mothers 'woman's doctor' said that it wouldn't be a good idea for us to try to have another baby. Instead, we've contacted an adoption agency. It could be tricky; seeing a psychologist puts up some red flags for adoption agencies, but I'm sure we'll find a child before too much longer. This, of course, raises the question of the nursery."

"Aren't you just going use the spare room as the baby's room?"

"No, we want to keep a spare room in case company shows up," Gene explained. "We're going to move you up to the attic and turn your room into the nursery. We'll build you a room in the attic, and an exterior stairway. That way, your room won't be right up against ours, you'll be able to come and go on your missions without disturbing the rest of the family, and the baby will be close to your mother and I."

"So all of this…" Ron gestured to the building materials.

"Is your new room," Gene informed him. "We'll leave you in your old room until we get the new one built."

"When do we start?"

"Tomorrow," Gene smiled at his son. "Spend the rest of the day reconnecting with your friends. Your mother and I will catch up with you and Kim, this evening at the Possibles' house, and go over how things have changed since you've been gone. The two of us will get started tomorrow, Monday, after I get off work. I have a couple of plans for the room, but you'll make the final decision."

For some reason, Ron didn't feel bad about being moved out of his room. He was getting a new one that he and his father (and maybe his friends) would build together. He was looking forward to having his own door, and a floor essentially all to himself. Then he noticed something behind the building supplies.

"Uh, dad? What's under the tarp behind my new room?"

"That's a surprise for you," Gene said with a broad smile. "You'll get it after we finish your room. Now go on! It's a beautiful day and you have friends to get together with."

* * *

Author's Note:

_For those of you who aren't familiar with Aesop's Fable 'The Fox and the Lion,' here is the version that I like the most:_

_A lion eventually becomes too old to catch game, so he crawls into a dark cave. Lying in the shadows, he calls out to the animals that pass by: "Could you spare a few minutes to come in and speak with a helpless old creature?" Whenever an animal entered the cave, the lion would kill and devour it. One day, a fox walked by the cave and the lion called out his usual greeting. The fox looked at the cave for several minutes then declined to enter. "But why won't you come in?" The lion called out. "Because I see many sets of tracks leading into your cave," the fox replied. "But none coming back out."_

_The moral of the story is that you can learn from the misfortunes of others._

_Additional author's note: _

_After posting this chapter, I realized that I should have combined this one with Chapter 8. However, I am very lazy, so instead of restructuring my story, I'm posting Chapter 8 at the same time. Sorry._

_One last note: Big thanks to Joe Stoppinghem for Beta Reading._


	8. Reunions

* * *

Chapter 8: Reunions

Ron called Felix, then Oscar. While Felix was all for meeting up that afternoon at the City Park to shoot some hoops Oscar wouldn't be available. He and Cindy had volunteered to escort their church's youth group on an afternoon picnic to Lake Middleton. Ron did, however, agree to start meeting up with Oscar for his evening workouts.

Next, Ron called Kim and wound up interrupting her telephone conversation with Monique. Kim had been on the phone for the better part of a half-hour with her best female friend and Ron was profoundly grateful that they didn't see fit to let him know the topics of their conversation. Ron told the two about Felix and his plans.

"That's great," Monique declared. "I get off work at noon. I can meet the three of you at the park and really pump Felix about what's going on between him and Yori!"

"Ron, you might as well come over here and hang out until then," Kim offered. "I'm outnumbered, with both my 'rents and the tweebs asking questions about Japan. I could really use another person explaining everything, please and thank you."

Ron needed no further encouragement. Letting his father know his plans for the rest of the day, he grabbed the letters Yori had given him to give to Felix and headed for his girlfriend's house. It was a beautiful summer day and he sort of half walked, half jogged the whole way. He was looking forward to getting back together with his friends. Thus, he was rather distracted when he turned onto the Possibles' sidewalk and the assault caught him completely by surprise.

* * *

After ending her conversation with Monique and Ron, Kim called Bonnie. Kim, Bonnie, and Tara were scheduled to conduct a two-week cheerleading workshop for interested, Tri-City Middle-School students later that month. Bonnie informed her that over sixty girls had signed up for the workshop and the facilities were ready. The tall brunette also informed her that Tara had arranged to work evenings during those two weeks so that she could help out. Kim was very glad that Tara could make it. While she and Bonnie were very competent cheerleaders, they both tended to loose their patience too easily to be good instructors. Tara, on the other hand, had nearly limitless tolerance, which made her invaluable when it came to instructing the young girls.

Hanging up, Kim thought about Bonnie while she walked downstairs to wait for her BFBF. She couldn't really consider her rival a friend, even though the brunette had stopped the verbal attacks on Ron. Bonnie still had snarky comments about the routines Kim came up with, the clothes that both she and Ron wore, and Kim's overall appearance. On the other hand, she complimented Kim and/or Ron when they did something well, she congratulated them after successful missions, and she had quit calling Ron a loser. The queen of the food chain had apparently decided that Team Possible's love life and missions were off-limits, but everything else remained fair game. Still it was an improvement.

Kim's thoughts were interrupted when she reached the bottom of the stairs and saw her 'rents staring out the picture window, apparently enjoying some spectacle taking place in the front yard. She joined them, took one look at her BFBF fighting for his life and started for the front door. Her mother caught her arm.

"Mom," Kim protested. "I've got to help him."

"Oh, let them be for just a bit," Dr. Anne Possible instructed her daughter. "Your brothers haven't had anybody to roughhouse with while you and Ronald were gone. They've missed him."

'Mom," Kim protested. "It just seems…sick and wrong to just stand here and watch the tweebs mug my boyfriend." Kim couldn't keep from smiling. Neither Josh nor pre-synthodrone Eric would have ever tussled with her brothers like this.

"Oh," her mother deadpanned. "Would **you** rather be out there rolling on the front yard with him? I'm sure some tabloid photographer would love that scene." The brain surgeon smiled at her daughter's blush. "Just having some fun, Kimmie. You have a nice boyfriend and that's locked Ron in as the twins' big brother."

"Ronald seems to have gotten the better of the twins." Dr. James Possible pointed out. Sure enough, Ron had tossed Jim onto the ground, piled Tim on top of Jim, and now sat on Tim. The two boys were struggling, unsuccessfully, to throw the older teen off of them. Ron had a very smug grin, even with the strain of avoiding putting his full weight on Tim.

"Gotta help my brothers," Kim informed her 'rents. Then the teen heroine was out the front door. She sprinted down the sidewalk and caught her unsuspecting boyfriend with an all-out diving tackle. The two Possible doctors convulsed with laughter upon hearing Ron's shriek of surprised betrayal. Soon, all three Possible children had the blonde on the ground and subjected him to an extended tickling session. James was about to go rescue the boy when Kim declared that her boyfriend had had enough, halted her own attack, and rescued him from the tweebs.

"Hello Mrs. Dr. P, Mr. Dr. P," Ron greeted his girlfriend's parents as he walked in the door. "I hope the entertainment was to your liking." Kim slipped off to her room, giving her 'rents a chance to reacquaint themselves with her BFBF.

"Ronald, it's so good to see you again," Mrs. Possible exclaimed, giving Ron a quick hug. "I swear you've grown another inch in the past month!" Ron could only rub the back of his neck, embarrassed by the compliment.

"You're at that age, Ronald," Mr. Possible said, shaking hands with the young man. "I'm glad you're back. The boys are a lot easier to keep under control when they burn off their energy on you."

"Thanks…I think," Ron offered. "What's this about a meeting between the Possible Clan and the Stoppable Clan this evening? Dad won't say anything more than it's going to take place."

"We won't either," Mr. Dr. Possible informed him. "You kids just have some fun with the rest of the day. We'll all meet tonight and discuss some changes that Drew's actions have caused. Wade will attend, by taking over our entertainment center and the two of you will have a complete briefing."

"Let's get going," Kim instructed him, reappearing with a backpack and a basketball. We can get in a little practice while waiting for Felix and Mo."

"Can we," Jim interrupted, stepping into the house.

"Come too?" Tim completed, right behind his twin.

"I don't see why not," Ron commented. "It it's all right with your parents. Some three-on-three might be fun."

"That sounds wonderful," Anne Possible agreed. "Some fresh air and exercise will do them a world of good."

"Yay!" Both twins exulted, then ran for their room to put on shorts and t-shirts.

Kim was actually a little tweaked by this. While it was a public park and broad daylight, she was hoping to sneak in a little 'couple time' with her boyfriend. Then she realized that Ron was just being Ron, friendly to everyone. Besides that, her father was right; the tweebs were easier to deal with when they burned off their energy. Still, she wished that Ron had checked with her first. Her mother managed to get her off to the side of the room while Ron and Dr. Possible (male) talked.

"Don't be upset with Ronald," her mother informed her. "This wasn't a date, was it?"

"Not exactly," Kim answered. "It's just that…"

"You wanted some alone time," Anne chimed in. "And you knew that Felix and Monique would understand and give you the time. On the other hand, if your brothers catch you kissing Ron, they're going to make a scene and you'll be hearing about it for weeks."

"Well…kinda," Kim offered in a weak voice, sure her face was trying to match her hair's color. Her mother favored her with a knowing smile.

"Kimmie, it wasn't **that** long ago that I was sixteen," the older redhead informed her daughter. "I can guess what you and Ronald are doing when the two of you have some free time, alone. That's why we had the discussion we did after your make-up prom." Anne Possible eyes grew a little distant and her face shaped itself into a warm smile. "You don't know how long I expected, and hoped, to catch the two of you necking during your 'Kim and Ron' Fridays."

"So that's why you always kept the tweebs away from us?"

"I knew the two of you would make a good match," Anne replied with a nod. "But Ronald always seemed too shy to make a move and you never seemed to think of him that way." She gave her head a quick shake. "But the two of you are together now and you have all summer, if not longer, to find alone time. So have some fun with your brothers and don't be upset with Ronald for including them. He's never had a younger sibling." Now Anne's smile grew sly. "Besides, it's good practice for dealing with children."

"Mom!" Kim protested. She was spared additional conversation when her brothers returned from their room, ready to go to the park.

Before long, she was feeling a little guilty for not wanting the tweebs to come along. When the four of them reached the park, Felix was already waiting. Ron provided a very thick envelope, full of correspondence from Yori, and Felix was soon more interested in reading than playing basketball. It was 'no big' for the other four, since Kim and Tim took on Ron and Jim in some half-court action. After roughly a half-hour of this, with Kim and Tim beating their opponents, Monique showed up. Kim's best female friend heckled Felix into setting his correspondence aside and the three-on-three match was a go.

The six young people played for a little over an hour. At that point, Kim and Ron were showing a great deal of fatigue. Despite the fact that they had gained greater stamina from their month at Yamanouchi, Team Possible had put in a very strenuous day yesterday and hadn't had much sleep last night. Seeing this, Felix and Monique piled everyone into Felix's van and ran to Bueno Nacho for a little refreshment.

"It's just as well that Oscar and Cindy couldn't make it," Felix commented as he drove. "Ron and I didn't have our gloves on."

"Gloves?" Kim asked.

"Latex gloves for handling basketballs," Ron explained. "Oscar says we have to be careful about PTDs."

Kim, Monique, and the twins stared at Ron while Felix chuckled.

"Pumpkin transmitted diseases," Ron clarified.

Kim shook her head, chuckling along with her friends. Oscar seemed to loathe the game of basketball out of principal rather than outright antipathy. The fact of the matter was that he enjoyed playing it; sort of. Yet, as a lifelong, intense wrestler, he felt he had to dislike the sport. He referred to the game as either 'pumpkin-beating' or 'round-balling.' The high school basketball players referred to the wrestlers as 'sweat-mongrels.' Kim's recollections were interrupted by their arrival at Bueno Nacho.

Much to Kim's surprise, the tweebs proved capable of showing something resembling manners when they were out in public. They were also in Ron, Felix, and Rufus's league when it came to devouring junk food. Soon, they were all piled into one booth, with Felix sitting along the outside edge, chowing down and talking.

"So roller-boy," Monique addressed Felix. "Just what's the sitch between you and Yori?"

"We're just exchanging some letters and emails," Felix answered. "We're interested in the same subjects and our cultural differences give us unique views on them. We both enjoy corresponding."

"Yeah, right. I suppose that whole folder Ron gave you is just physics calculations and robotics diagrams."

"There's some personal correspondence in with it," the boy confessed.

"Uh-huh, and what about the lip smacking the two of you did at the airport?"

"She's also incredibly hot," responded Felix, with a decidedly hard glare at both Kim and Ron. Kim looked considerably more guilty than her boyfriend. "By the way, what's the bid deal about the…deal between Yori and I?"

"LUTMR," Monique informed him. She noted five blank stares directed at her. "Living up to my reputation; I won't remain the ultimate gossip broker for very long if I don't have the low-down on an international romance happening right under my nose!"

"Romance?" Both tweebs seemed dismayed by the prospect. Felix, a computer and robotics genius, was one of their role models. The fact that he was dating lowered his standing in their opinion.

"Felix has transpacific cooties?" Tim asked.

"Either that or transarctic cooties." Jim answered.

"How do you figure?" Tim challenged.

"If the shortest distance from Middleton to Japan is north, over the Arctic, then they're transarctic," Jim explained. "If the shortest distance is west, over the Pacific, then they're transpacific."

"That doesn't matter," Tim protested. "Cooties aren't defined by the shortest distance, they're defined by the path of travel!"

"Who made up that rule?"

"You did!" Tim pointed out, triumphantly. "You defined Kim's cooties as 'phone-cooties' after that really long call with Ron! You know, when she was saying…"

"Enough!" Kim, starting to blush at Monique's leer, shut down her brothers' conversation.

"Besides, that was the transmission channel, not the direct path." Jim explained.

"Stop it! Both of you," Kim glared at both of her brothers. "You can argue about cootie adjectives when the two of you are at home, please and thank you. It's embarrassing in public."

"Back to the issue," Monique cut in, staring at Felix. "Are you and Yori an item?"

"Define an item," Felix countered.

"Are you dating?" Monique demanded.

"We've only had one date," Felix informed her. "And that was a rather formal thing."

"Aaarrghh!" Monique lost her patience. "Fine! Are the two of you in love with each other?"

"I think that love is too strong of a term," Felix decided to cut her some slack. "I think the term 'mutual crush' would be more accurate. I'll admit to being attracted to her, very much so, and she seems to be attracted to me. We're just seeing where that attraction takes us."

"That's not a very romantic description," Monique groused.

"In the immortal words of my good friend here," Felix put a hand on Ron's shoulder. "I am what I is."

Everyone laughed a little about that; even the tweebs stopped discussing the implication of 'commercial airline-borne intercontinental cooties' to join in the humor. Felix, however, soon gave Ron a piercing look.

"Ron," he asked his best friend. "Just what's going on at Yamanouchi? It's not just a high school, is it?"

"Why do you say that?" Ron was suddenly nervous.

"I'm looking at the evidence," Felix informed him. "First of all, you weren't exactly ambitious when you left for the place during the school year, but you were suddenly a lot more…focused, when you came back. Then Yori shows up and the two of you vanish with her. Ron's hip is banged up when you come back. Yori comes back again and is able to take out more than a dozen of that super-villain's trained attack monkeys. Finally, the two of you spend a month there and you come back like this."

"Like what?" Ron's eyes had a hunted look to them.

"Don't be coy," Monique took up the interrogation. "Kim here's always been in great shape, so we really can't tell with her, but you…" Monique shook her head. "Your shirt fluttered up a little bit when you were jumping during our game. Those abs of yours look like you're about ready to join some MMA league."

"You've filled out, Ron." Felix concluded.

"Gee, a sixteen year old going through a growth spurt," Ron mused. "That's really unusual." Ron was rather pleased with his explanation.

"This isn't just a growth spurt," Felix insisted. Ron and Kim shared an uncomfortable look.

"Is it something that you can't talk about?" Monique asked. Both Kim and Ron nodded.

"That's cool with me," She assured her friends. "I can respect secrets. BIDMWQTTFO." Everyone looked at her again.

"But it doesn't mean we'll quit trying to find out," she informed them.

Kim and Ron flinched. Keeping secrets from Felix and Monique would be a challenge.

* * *

The six young people hung out for the rest of the afternoon, not really doing much of anything. They spent a lot of time at the park and the mall, wasting time and enjoying each other's company. As the evening wore down, Felix dropped Kim, Tim, Jim, and Ron off at the Possibles' home. As Felix drove off to take Monique home, the four went inside to find Mr. and Mrs. Stoppable, as well as the Doctors Possible. Mrs. Stoppable quickly engulfed her son.

"Ronnie, it's so good to have you back," she said, hugging him close. Then she held him at arm's length and looked him up and down. "You're growing so fast."

"It's good to be home, mom." Ron answered, and kissed his mother's cheek.

Soon, James Possible had everyone seated in the den, where the entertainment center came suddenly powered up without anyone turning it on. The TV screen showed a smug looking Wade.

"Hello everyone," the young genius greeted them. I think that this is a good time to get everyone caught up with what's been happening with some of Team Possible's foes. Ron, Kim, I've asked your parents to join in since it might affect them, as well. In fact, it already has."

"We've had to change our telephone number to an unlisted number," Gene Stoppable informed his son. "After that footage of you and Kimberly became public, we were swamped with calls. You also have a couple bushels of mail to go through."

Ron hung his head. He so did not want to be a celebrity.

"Don't feel bad, Ronald," Mr. Possible chimed in. "You didn't do anything wrong. In fact, I think it's rather nice that you're getting some recognition."

Kim agreed, whole-heartedly, with her father.

"Anyway, let's get started," Wade got the meeting back on track. "First of all, the various media organizations are getting aggressive when the inquire about your status. I think we need to release a statement to settle them down. What do you suggest I say?"

Kim and Ron looked at each other for a long moment, aware that their parents and the tweebs were very interested in the answer.

"We could tell them that we're dating," Ron suggested.

"Exclusively," Kim added. Ron nodded his agreement.

"Good enough," Wade commented. "Now, let's get started with your briefing. First, Dr. Drakken has made some sort of plea bargain. He's avoided the death penalty in return for life imprisonment and full disclosure of his actions. The UN is holding him in Holland."

"I don't trust him," Kim growled. "He probably has assets hidden all over the world."

"Global Justice and I both agree with you," Wade answered. "That's why the UN has stationed a full infantry regiment around his prison. He will never be allowed to leave that facility and all of his communications are going to be reworded by linguistics experts to make sure he can't send out coded messages. He's probably still up to something but I can't think of a better way of keeping him out of play."

"Next, Motor Ed," Wade continued. "He has also struck a deal. He'll be spending the next two to five years in the Colorado State Penitentiary and he'll be on probation, for all practical purposes, for the rest of his life. He claims he wants to go straight, but then again, doesn't everybody you capture?"

"Usually, at least until they escape," Ron commented. "What about Monty?"

"Fisk's situation has me nervous," Wad admitted. "He's been found mentally incompetent to stand trial and has been moved to the Colorado Human Services Center. Even though he's in the maximum-security wing, it's not as secure as the penitentiary. Both the DA and Fisk's psychiatrist think that he has a fixation on Ron and will attack him again, if he has the opportunity."

"Oh goody," Ron commented.

"What has my Ronnie done to warrant this…death threat?" Mrs. Stoppable demanded.

"He stood up to somebody who needed to be stopped," her husband informed her. "That's what Kimberly and him do. I, for one, am proud of both of them."

"Right," Wade continued. "Anyway, I'm monitoring the facility's outside communications. If anything happens with, to, or about him, I'll know as soon as the facility issues a report. That leaves-"

"Shego," Kim interrupted. "You were saying that she was going to be the troublemaker."

"She's the only major player in the whole drama who's intending to fight her charges," Wade informed them. "Global Justice suspects that she's going to be aggressive and abrasive when she does so."

"Yeah, that's Shego," Kim commented. "What does GJ think she's going to do?"

"Use the Eric situation to play on your emotions," Wade's reply was uncharacteristically blunt.

"How's that going to help her?" James Possible demanded, even as Kim's head dropped in shame. "How will embarrassing Kimmie-cub keep Shego out of prison?"

"That's not the way Shego thinks, dad," Kim murmured. "She would rather get revenge on anybody that bettered her, rather than help herself."

"Actually, there is some method to the madness," Wade informed them. "Kim and Ron are going to be the prosecution's star witnesses, the only ones **not** on Drakken's payroll who were actually inside the headquarters that night. If she can discredit them, she'll have a good chance at avoiding the more serious charges. The best way to discredit them will be to provoke one, or both of them into an emotional outburst on the witness stand."

Kim felt Ron's arm wrap around her shoulders. She felt his hand slide down her arm, then felt his fingers intertwine with her own. She lifted her head up and forced some iron into her voice.

"Okay Wade," she said. "Let me have it! What does GJ think that her lawyer is going to hit me with? If I can't handle it here, with my family and my boyfriend, I'll never be able to handle it in court."

* * *

While the Possibles, Stoppables and Wade discussed the upcoming trials; Lord Montgomery Fisk lounged in his cell at the Colorado Human Services Center. He found his situation most intolerable.

He had to admit that Bates had done his best. In fact, the loyal servant had accomplished a great deal more than Fisk himself would have managed. He was now confined in, to use layman's terms, the loony bin. While this was preferable to incarceration in the penitentiary, it did not address his most pressing problem: He was confined and helpless to act while Stoppable continued to master the Mystical Monkey Power.

Fisk sighed. His confinement and inactivity had given him time to review, carefully and honestly, his latest encounters with young Stoppable. Fisk had come to the painful realization that the boy, the pretender, was actually more formidable than he was. As a result, Fisk faced two, apparently insurmountable, obstacles preventing him from mastering the Mystical Monkey Power.

The first obstacle was his confinement itself. Despite the time he had spent observing his prison, he could not come up with a feasible plan to escape. The only plans that he had come up with required a combination of time, privacy, and assistance from outside the facility; none of which were available to him. Beyond this, he was smart enough to realize that escaping the facility was merely the first step in truly escaping. To remain at large, he would need assistance and resources outside the facility, none of which he had the opportunity to obtain. No, the only realistic way for him to get out was to pretend that the counselor was making progress in his efforts to 'unravel his fabricated reality of mystic powers.' Unfortunately, this could take several months, after which he still faced potential incarceration for his admittedly violent actions in Middleton.

The second obstacle was Stoppable himself. After careful research and contemplation, Fisk realized that the only way to free the Mystical Monkey Power from Stoppable was to dismember the boy while he was actively using this power. Unfortunately, when Stoppable used this power he was more likely to dismember Fisk than the other way around. In addition to Stoppable's own capability, the boy routinely associated with Possible, who was even more capable than the boy was.

Fisk came to the uncomfortable conclusion that in order to achieve his life's goal, he would need to escape from a prison he couldn't escape, then overcome a foe he couldn't defeat. Yet, Lord Fisk had not become a world-renown archeologist, or a master of Tai Sheng Pek Kwar, by giving up. He needed to deal with these issues in order. First, he needed to escape his confinement, then he could acquire resources and come up with a plan for dealing with Stoppable.

He was so intent on his thoughts that he failed to note the slight vibrations emanating from just under his floor. It wasn't until a faint scraping sound, originating from the same point, intruded upon his awareness that he realized that something was out of the ordinary. Lord Montgomery Fisk paced his cell, his bare feet quickly determining where the vibrations were strongest. He quickly retreated as far from that point as he possibly could and prepared himself for any eventuality.

The vibrations stopped but Fisk remained wary and alert. Then, after several minutes of calm, a section of the floor, two feet across collapsed into a hollow beneath it. Fisk was preparing to approach the hole when several odd creatures climbed out. One appeared to be a strange mixture of a badger and an deer-like creature, two looked like a cross between a wolf and some rodent, while the last one looked like a cross between a bear and another type of rodent. Fisk just stood, prepared to defend himself, while the creatures looked at him. He had no doubt as to their origin.

"Monty," the familiar voice emanated from a collar on one of the creatures. "I have a safe place for you. Follow my creations and we can be together again."

Lord Montgomery Fisk considered for all of twelve seconds. Finding the thought of close association with Amy to be moderately less unpleasant than continued incarceration, he leapt into the hole and followed the odd creatures to freedom.

* * *

_Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read and review. Biggest thanks of all, as always, to Joe Stoppinghem for Beta Reading._


	9. Summer Routine

Chapter 9: Summer Routine

"Could you run the recording one more time?"

Wade, sitting at his computer, activated the requested file and sent it to the Possibles' entertainment center. Kim and Ron were reviewing the recordings of Fisk's escape yet again. It had been their major point of interest for the past eleven days, ever since the old villain had vanished. The technical guru sighed. While he had yet to develop an interest in girls, he understood that his friends were infatuated with each other and he had hoped that they would have a quiet summer to enjoy with each other.

It wasn't to be. Oh, the summer started out promising abundant 'couple time' for the two teens. Four of their major foes were in custody and most of the rest were on the run. The only things that should have been distracting them from…distracting each other were the odd rescue mission and preparing themselves for the trials. Even the trial preparation wasn't rushed, since there was no way that the courts were going to be ready to try Shego until early autumn, at the soonest. Then came the two pieces of news.

First, Fist escaped from the Human Services Center; Secondly, Dementor had been spotted in northwestern Montana, up near the international border. While Team Possible couldn't do much about Dementor, at least until someone spotted him again, they were able to review the footage of Monty's escape.

"What do you see, KP?" Ron sat next to his girlfriend, wondering what clue she had spotted.

"I'm not sure," Kim confessed. "I just can't help but think that there's something really big that I'm missing. Wade, could you repeat that report on the tunnel?"

"Sure Kim," Wade called the report up on his screen. "The escape tunnel had been bored through both bedrock and soil. The Office of the State Engineer estimates that it took several days, with the final section being completed on the night of the escape. One of the creatures stayed behind and collapsed the tunnel after the escapees, so it wasn't until a week later that ground-penetrating radar was able to locate the other end of the tunnel."

"Several days…" Kim mused. "How did Fist contact Amy?"

"The police, State Patrol, and the FBI are all tearing out their hair on that one," Wade answered. "I can't find anything either. I've fed all of his correspondence into my computer, and I haven't been able to decipher any codes or messages. The FBI's doing the same thing, with the same result, and they have a whole lot more experience than I do."

"Let's get back to that several days part," Ron suggested. "We've seen the recordings of Monty's actual escape a dozen times, but maybe we should look at what he was doing just before that happened."

"That makes sense," Kim agreed. "We sure aren't figuring anything out by watching him jump into that hole for the two-hundredth time."

"Okay," Wade conceded. "I'm backing it up twenty minutes."

The three of them watched this section of the recording three times. On the fourth time, Ron interrupted with some comments.

"There," he said. "See how he gets off the bunk and starts pacing, slowly? He's feeling for something on the floor. Remember, he has bare feet."

"He crosses the point where those things broke in several times," Kim added. "Good eyes, Ron, he was pinpointing where they were going to break in." She frowned. "It's something, but I don't see how it helps us."

"If he knew they were going to break in, why did he drop into that combat stance?" Wade fast-forwarded the clip to where the creatures broke in and Monty appeared to be ready to fight."

"If those things came out of this floor, I'd be going into a combat stance," Ron commented. "Forget that! I'd be running out the door."

"Not if you were expecting them to break you out of a cell," Wade protested. "Wait a moment!" The technical genius rewound the tape to where Fist had originally gotten up from his bunk. "See that?" He asked. "He's acting like he's surprised. He wasn't expecting this rescue attempt!"

"So that's why nobody can decipher his hidden messages to DNAmy," Kim concluded. "There weren't any."

"That also explains his hesitation when those things came out of the floor," Wade added. "He didn't know if they were rescuers or assailants."

"Alright, so we know that this was Amy trying to get her Monty-poo back," Ron supplied. "And it looks like Monty had to decide between her and the loony-bin. What does that tell us? There must be some way we can use this."

"Well," Kim mused. "For one thing, it means that we can find Fisk by finding Amy."

"It also tells us that Amy has a sponsor!" Wade interjected.

"Uh, let's pretend that Kim didn't follow your sudden burst of insight," Ron suggested. Kim gave him a poke in the ribs.

"Okay, after The Diablo Incident, the FBI investigated Amy as a known, former associate of Drakken's," Wade began. Kim and Ron both nodded; this was old news. "They found her on a work release program, teaching advanced genetics at a university in California. The Feds dug deep and couldn't find anything wrong. She still had her cuddlebuddy fascination, but she wasn't trying to make living ones."

"They kept a discrete eye on her for the next couple weeks and reviewed her previous transactions," he continued. "They concluded that she was a slightly eccentric, scientific genius with no real social skills." Wade frowned. "Gee, who does **that** remind you of?"

"Wade!" Kim and Ron groaned at the same time.

"Jinx, you owe me an evening dancing!" Kim reacted before Ron could speak.

"Ah, man!"

"Back to the issue," Wade smiled. "After Fisk made his move at the make-up prom, she continued to work for a few days, then she vanished. The Feds froze her assets but she hasn't made any effort to access them. Now, the equipment she needs to produce these…altered creatures is expensive."

"So she needs someone to fund it," Ron concluded.

"And not just anyone," Kim added. "I'm willing to bet that that kind of price tag means a major corporation."

"Or a government," Wade supplied. "I wonder if her sponsor knew about her plans to recover Fisk, or that she was building these creatures." The youngster snorted a laugh. "Who knows, giving her the resources to recover Monty just might be part of her compensation package. Anyway, if you don't mind, I'll call our suspicions in to Global Justice. They might be able to get some more mileage out of them than we can."

"Please, and thank you," Kim said. "You rock, Wade." Wade gave his friends a warm smile and signed off.

"So KP, what do we do about this?" Ron asked.

"I don't think that we can do all that much," she confessed. "Just keep our eyes open and keep working out."

Ron nodded. It was what he had figured. "What do you have planned for the rest of the day?" He asked his girlfriend.

"I'm meeting with Tara and…_Bonnie_," the last name came out as a low growl. "We're putting the final touches on the choreography for the workshop next week. How about you?"

"I've got three yards to do today, then my shift at Riverna's," he informed his girlfriend. "Then Oscar and I'll meet up for our evening workout. Care to join us?"

"I'm thinking yes at the moment," she replied with a smile. His remark about the yards gave her a very warm feeling towards her boyfriend.

A unit from the Colorado National Guard was currently deployed in the Middle East. When Ron found out that several of the members lived in his neighborhood, he decided to maintain their yards while they were gone. He mowed grass, trimmed hedges and trees, and generally kept the yards looking good for the soldiers on duty. He scheduled his work for when the soldiers' families were not at home, so they wouldn't be tempted to pay him for his work. Ron Stoppable was profoundly grateful to those wearing his Country's uniform and while the yard work wasn't much, it was at least **something** he could do for them.

As for Riverna's, Ron had managed to land a job as the pasta and pastry chef. It was good work for him, since he had flexible hours. His responsibilities consisted of making sure that the restaurant had enough fresh, hand made pastas and desserts. He was; however, going beyond that and having the manager explain the business process behind the food. Suddenly, terms like overhead, payroll, discretionary spending and depreciation had real meanings for him, not just words in his business class. Kim was very proud of him.

Finally, there were the evening workouts with Oscar. While she and Ron sparred for two hours every morning, he did his strength and conditioning workouts in the evenings, with Oscar. She, Felix, and Cindy were welcome to join the two, and she and Felix usually did. Felix showed up in a non-motorized wheelchair and shocked everyone with just how fast he could go on the roads. While the boys were good natured and polite, Kim felt a little out of place. Then she realized what was going on: male bonding. It was just her luck that her boyfriend's idea of male bonding consisted of running, sweating, weight training, and the like; rather than sneaking alcohol or ogling girls. (Not that she minded Ron ogling **her**; she encouraged it. She ogled back.)

Kim snapped her mind back to the here and now as the subject of her reverie stood up. She stood up, as well.

"You be careful with Fist on the loose," she instructed her boyfriend. She spun him to face her and grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him close.

"Always, KP," he answered, ducking down for a quick, goodbye kiss.

Kim would have none of that. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulled him in and clamped her mouth onto his. Several minutes later, a breathless, flustered…and very happy Ron Stoppable stumbled out of the door to start on his day.

Ron went home and gathered the tools he needed to do his chores. While the Monty sitch made him nervous, he was determined to not let it dictate his life. He knew that Kim would back him up if Monty made his move. Both teens used this as another excuse to spend time with each other. Besides, he had a couple of 'aces up his sleeve,' so to speak.

His first hidden asset was Wade. The boy genius had provided him with a new wristwatch, which included a tracking chip, a panic button and a cell phone. If Ron got into trouble, he would hit the panic button. Wade would then track his location and activate the cell phone's microphone. The boy genius would determine if the call was a real emergency or a false alarm, then send assistance to his location.

His second hidden asset was the Middleton Police Department. While they hadn't assigned a unit to shadow him, they had been alerted that an international criminal might attack him. For this reason, they were ready to roll assets to Ron's location whenever Wade called them.

Not even Kim and Wade knew about Ron's third hidden asset. When Monty escaped, Ron held a long, meditative consultation with Sensei. The old man had insisted that Ron take the Lotus Blade for his defense. Ron spent over an hour in deep meditation, calling the blade. It was only after the blade arrived (cutting a limb off of one of the Stoppables' trees and frightening a pair of nesting woodpeckers) that Ron realized that he had no idea how to carry it with him without being obvious about it. While the blade could assume the shape of any weapon, carrying a weapon, be it a sword, tonfa, or bo, wasn't a good way to remain 'under the radar.' Ron had spent another hour coming up with a solution.

Ron smiled as he stepped into his house then up the stairs to his room. He hadn't been too sure about his idea since he was afraid that it would dishonor the blade. He had contacted Sensei again. The old man not only assured him that his idea wouldn't dishonor the blade but he praised Ron on his cleverness in coming up with a method of keeping the blade hidden in plain sight.

Locking his bedroom door behind him, Ron recovered the blade from its case in his closet. With a slight effort of his will, the blade took the form of a set of hedge clippers. Whenever Ron did his volunteer yard work, he carried the Lotus Blade in this form. When he worked at Riverna's, he carried it in the form of a kitchen knife. The Lotus Blade was able to project a sort of emotion back to Ron, and it seemed to take a childish glee in the deception.

Ron went to the garage and filled up the lawnmower's fuel tank. Then he packed the Lotus Blade, as well as a rake, a hoe, and a pruning hook, into his dad's old golf club caddy. He was actually a little nervous about this, as well. If Duff Killigan ever heard about what he was using the caddy for, he was sure that he would be dealing with a short, irate, violent, Scottish golf-fanatic as well as genetically altered psychopath. He shrugged his shoulders and decided that it was all part of growing up.

Ron went about the rest of his day without incident. As always, he felt a little guilty about using the Lotus Blade to clip hedges and cut food at the restaurant. When he first came up with the plan, he had intended to use mundane tools for the job while just keeping the blade in the area. However, the blade projected disappointment whenever he used another tool that the blade was mimicking. If the blade was in the form of hedge clippers, it didn't want Ron using another set of clippers. When he informed Sensei about the sitch, he swore the old man was amused.

Finishing at the restaurant, Ron went home and had just enough time before his parents got home from work to prepare dinner. Dinner was a pleasant time for the teen, as it gave him a chance to talk with his parents. Tonight, they discussed his activities, his father's work, his mother's progress in therapy, and the latest news from the adoption agency. Ron's 'never be normal' motto continued to prove true; most kids found themselves alienated from their parents during their teenage years, while Ron was growing closer to his.

That evening, he and KP walked to the school gym, where they met with Oscar. The Middleton Athletics Boosters Club had arranged for adult supervision at the gymnasium and track, so high school students were welcome to come and work out. Kim, Ron, and Oscar went to the track and started with a two-mile run, with Kim beating the boys by a good forty yards. Then it was back to the gym for tonight's scheduled workout, which happened to be weight training. Kim excused herself and worked on the machines while the boys went to the free weights.

The three teens worked out hard, but had fun while doing so. They exchanged joking, critical comments about each other's puny musculature (the adult on duty had to shake his head, since these 'kids' were clearly stronger than most adults) and their pitiful physical condition. The highlight of the workout came when Ron, after finishing a bench-press set greater than his body weight, declared himself 'King of the Noodle-Arms. Finally, their limbs trembling with fatigue, they lurched out of the gym. They agreed to meet the next night (it would be wind-sprints night) and that Saturday. With that, Kim and Ron headed back towards their neighborhood while Oscar left to catch a bus back to his.

Kim and Ron held hands as they walked down the darkened streets. He wanted to put his arm around her but since he had just finished an intense workout, he decided that such a gesture would be more offensive than romantic. Instead, the teens talked.

"So," Kim asked. "Have you peeked under the tarp to see your surprise?"

"No, I don't want to spoil it," Ron informed her. "Besides, we should finish my new room this Saturday, then my 'rents can present it to me themselves, in front of my friends."

Kim smiled at that. Ron's new room had become another bonding device between him and his friends. She, Oscar, Felix, and even Cindy showed up and helped him with his ongoing project. It was sort of sad that it would be finished this Saturday, but then again, now they would have more time to spend on the traditional, summer-fun sort of activities.

"What's the sitch with the adoption?" She asked, snapping herself out of her reverie.

"I don't think that anything is really going to happen until I'm out of my old room and the 'rents have it converted into a nursery," he answered. "That's another reason I'm trying to get the job done as soon as I can."

"Looking forward to being a big brother?" She smiled, warmly, at her BFBF.

"Yes," he answered. "Surprising, isn't it?"

They walked for a few minutes in silence, just enjoying the peaceful night and each other's company. Finally, Ron spoke up again.

"KP, I have a favor to ask."

"Just ask."

"I need you to keep an eye on me when the adoption goes through."

Kim just looked at him with a puzzled expression.

"I've been an only child for so long that I'm afraid I'll get jealous and do something…stupid."

"Ron, you've practically been the tweebs' big brother for years. You're going to be a great big brother."

"I don't know, KP, this is different. With your brothers, I've only hung out with them while I was hanging out with you. Now, I'm going to be a big brother for real. I'm going to have to be someone to look up to. You know, a role model."

"Ron Stoppable, you're going to do just fine but just to humor you, I'll agree. I'll keep an eye on you and let you know if you start doing something foolish…in a bad sort of way." She spun him to face her and gave him an impish expression. "I happen to like my goofy boyfriend."

Ron wasn't as foolish as he sometimes let on. He had learned to read Kim's expressions and actions at an early age. Sure, the recent alteration they had made to their relationship had added some new expressions and actions, but he had picked up on them very quickly. Right now, Kim wanted him to kiss her. She wanted him to kiss her, passionately, for the next several minutes. Ron would have been hard pressed to find a reason not to do so, even if his brain was firing on all synapses. As they were standing on a quiet, dark street, it was quite some time before they found a good enough reason to stop. Finally, they stood with their foreheads touching.

"Drop by tomorrow morning?" Kim asked him.

"Absolutely. Right now, I think that I need a hot, steamy meeting with a shower."

"Me to," Kim giggled, while both teens thought how nice it would be to share that shower. To wash each other's backs and feel each other's hands on…

Beep, Beep, Be-Beep.

"So what's the sitch?" Kim's trademark answer came out with more of a growl than she had intended.

"Uh, we've got a lock on Dementor," Wade answered, somewhat tenuously. "He's in northwestern Montana. He's been active in and around an abandoned mine. I'm checking sources but I'm willing to bet that it's one of Drakken's secret hideouts."

"You rock, Wade," Kim said, with a sigh. "When can you have our ride ready?"

"Ten minutes."

"Can you make it twenty?" Ron asked. "We just got done working out and right now Dementor could probably smell me a mile away."

"Sure thing," Wade answered with a look of relief. "That must be why the two of you are so flushed and out of breath right now."

"Uh, yeah Wade. That's it. See you in twenty."

"Wade out."

* * *

_A/N:_

_Again, big thanks to Joe Stoppinghem for Beta Reading. Hope everyone's enjoying the story. Thanks or reading._

_Best wishes,_

_daccu65_


	10. Underground Lab

Chapter 10: Underground Lab

"Okay Wade, what do you have for us?" A freshly showered Kim Possible asked from the passenger section of a C-5. Ron sat next to her, pressed up close so that he could see any details Wade chose to display on the Kimmunicator's screen. He facilitated his close proximity by wrapping his arm over her shoulders, a position both teens found most satisfying.

"It's an abandoned mine," Wade explained. "I'm sending you tunneling records from the last company that actually mined there. Keep in mind that this was years ago, so the passages my be significantly altered."

"So on it," Kim replied. "Who's owned it since it's been deactivated?"

"It's really hard to say," Wade confessed. "It's listed under a property management firm, but they're holding it in trust for a real estate speculator, and he's leasing it from a legal firm. It's so convoluted that I don't know if I'll ever be able to track it down."

"You said you thought Drakken might own it," prompted Ron. "Why?"

"It's his style. Remember the convoluted sort of way that he had Mickman's Earthmoving doing the excavating at Bueno Nacho? The mine's management seems to have the same, twisted pattern. I can't follow the mine's ownership to Drakken, and I can't trace any of Drakken's front companies to the mine, but the two trails sort of point towards each other."

"I'll take your word for that," Ron commented, with a glazed look on his face.

"More to the point," Kim interrupted. "If Drakken does own this mine, why is Dementor there? Is he working for Drakken?"

"I don't think so," Wade speculated. "Dementor has had some rough times in the last couple of weeks. The various European armed forces have driven him out of every lair he had ever established on that continent; he may be looking for a new base of operations."

"So he's going to become North America's problem now, not Europe's?" Kim mused.

"It's one possibility," countered Wade. "I think it's most likely that Drakken maintained a secret laboratory in this mine and Dementor is making use of the facilities."

"If that's the case, how did he find out about the lab?" Asked Ron. "I mean, if you, Global Justice, the NSA, and who knows how many other agencies couldn't track this down, how could Dementor?"

"Dementor might have information that the rest of us don't have," Wade suggested. "We know that both Killigan and Fisk have obtained materials from both Dementor and Drakken in the past. Dementor and Drakken might also obtain resources from common suppliers. They may have even corresponded directly with each other. Dementor might have used such information to track down this facility."

"Oh, great," Ron interjected. "The bad guys have some sort of time-share plan for their lairs."

"Very funny Ron. Okay, Wade what else do we need to know?" Kim wanted the briefing out of the way.

"Right, the fact that your going into a mine means that you're going to have to set up a repeater for communications."

"Wade, let's pretend that I don't know how to do that," Ron interrupted. "In fact, let's pretend that I don't even know what that means."

"Open the small, green bag that I sent along," Wade instructed them. Ron did so and pulled out a spool of fine wire. A small, black box was attached to the wires free end and another, identical box was mounted on the spool itself.

"That's your repeater," Wade told them. "When you get to the site, clip the spool to your belt and hide the first box outside the mine, where it can pick up signal. It will pass the signals down the fiber-optic cable, where the box on the spool will transmit to the Kimmunicator. As long as you keep the Kimmunicator and the spool in line of sight, we'll be able to communicate."

"You rock, Wade," Kim was very happy that the boy genius was on her side. "Anything else?"

"One thing, satellite photographs show what appears to be an antenna, under construction, on the property. It doesn't look like it's finished yet."

"I'd guess that it has something to do with whatever he's working on," Ron mused.

"I agree with that," Wade replied.

"Okay, now let's get to work," Kim interrupted. "I'm looking at the plans you've sent us. It looks to me like there's only one entrance to the mine."

"That's correct. The satellite photos don't show any new excavations, so it's still probably the only way in."

"Does the term 'heavily guarded ambush point' ring a bell with either of you?" Ron asked.

"Any other openings?" Kim asked, with an understanding nod towards her BFBF.

"The various mining companies drilled three ventilation shafts," Wade answered, causing the Kimmunicator screen to highlight the shafts. "But they're only eighteen inches across. I don't know if they're still open."

"Both Ron and I can lower ourselves down a tube that narrow," said Kim. "But there's no way we could climb back up one, and we don't have any way of checking them out."

"Ahem!" A highly offended Rufus poked his head out of Ron's pocket and glared at her.

"Other than a sending a small, subterranean rodent to investigate a small, subterranean passage," Kim corrected herself. "Rufus will make sure that the shaft is clear before we go down." She patted the brave, chubby mole rat, letting him know how much she appreciated him.

"Which one to we use?" Ron asked.

"The one that opens the farthest into the mine," Kim answered. "Dementor and his goons won't be expecting us to drop in that deep."

"Okay," Ron conceded. "Now, where do you think he's doing whatever it is that he's doing…"

Team Possible spent the next half-hour making tentative plans. Of course, the fact that they didn't know what Dementor was actually up to meant that their plans couldn't be very specific. They picked out the largest cavities in the mine, which would be the most logical place for Drakken to store his equipment, assuming that he hadn't modified the mine. Next, they discussed their approach to the mine and spoke to the flight crew. Ron had a last-minute idea, grabbed a few odds and ends from their mission bags, and went to work.

The aircraft flew over the mine and Team Possible executed a HALO jump, with Ron screaming until they popped their chutes. Team Possible landed four miles away from the mine entrance, with a hillside in between it and their landing site. Since it was now almost midnight, they had a good chance of avoiding detection. They did not approach the entrance, but moved on the ventilation shafts from a direction opposite from it. As soon as they reached the first, and deepest shaft, Ron rigged up Rufus's harness and went to work on his previous plan.

"What do you think, KP?" Ron asked, after a few minutes.

"You've painted Rufus black with that skin darkening makeup we use for night missions," Kim commented. "And tied a spare pair of your mission gloves on his back. And this is supposed to…"

"In the dark, he'll look like a bat if anyone sees him," Ron proudly declared.

"This is supposed to accomplish, what?" Kim asked.

"If they spot a naked mole rat, they'll probably think 'Kim Possible,'" Ron pointed out. "But a bat won't look out of place in a mine."

"Won't they wonder why a bat's running around rather than flying?"

"Maybe they'll think he's wounded," Ron looked a little hurt. "Besides, they might spot him while we're lowering him."

"Then they'll wonder how a bat can fly without moving it's wings," Kim mused. "But still, the disguise can't hurt. Are you ready?"

Ron lowered Rufus, slowly, down the shaft. After a few minutes, a rapid series of tugs on the line signaled Ron to retrieve his smallest friend. Rufus squeaked and chiitered at Ron for a few seconds when he was back on the surface.

"There's a piece of metal over the lower end of the shaft," Ron translated. "Rufus doesn't know what it is, but we can't get in that way."

"On to the next shaft," Kim declared.

Ron and Rufus repeated the process from the first shaft. This time, the brave rodent reported that the shaft was clear and nobody was waiting at the bottom. Ron set up the repeater's transceiver link to Wade outside the shaft and played out some slack cable while Kim tied a rope off to a nearby tree. Both teens tied on a 'Swiss Seat' then Ron lowered just enough rope to reach the bottom of the mine. Kim went first, she didn't even bother holding the rope, she simply fed it through her clip and dropped into the hole. The friction of the rope playing through the clip slowed her down enough that she was still able to land, gracefully, than scramble out of the way. Next, Ron lowered Rufus, who immediately scampered deeper into the mine, playing his role as the scout. As soon as Rufus was loose, Ron lowered the repeater spool before dropping down himself, using a wrist grapple.

Kim scouted close at hand while Ron taped the repeater's cable to the ceiling and wedged the end of their rappelling rope up inside the ventilation shaft. While these precautions wouldn't fool any but the most casual of inspectors, the teens hoped to be out of the mine before the current occupants passed through in force. Kim, on the other hand, noted that the mineshaft was arched. It was about eight feet wide and roughly the same height at the middle. There was a little debris along the sides of the tunnel but the center was clear. That told her that Dementor's henchmen passed through the tunnel enough to clean out the center, but hadn't bothered to clean it out. They must not be planning to stay very long. There was only the dimmest of light, glimmering from deeper into the mine.

Kim's thoughts were interrupted when Rufus returned from his scouting mission. Kim had to smile; in the dark, he **did** look a little like a bat. Rufus scampered to Ron and started to chitter and squeak. Ron motioned for Kim to hold up her Kimmunicator.

"Rufus checked this branch," he explained, pointing at the map plans on the screen. "He says that it's some sort of living quarters, and there's about a half dozen men sleeping in there right now. There's two more empty beds."

"Probably for guards out at the entrance," Kim surmised.

"No way of knowing, but I bet you're right."

"Okay," Kim decided. "We keep heading down into the mine. So far, the old maps are still accurate and they show a large opening about two hundred yards deeper."

The teens crept down the tunnel, with Rufus scouting ahead and Ron doing his best to conceal the repeater's cable in the debris along the tunnel wall. They bypassed the tunnel leading to the sleeping quarters, pausing only long enough to tape the cable over the opening, and continued down. Rufus returned before they could get to their target. Again, Ron translated for his little friend.

"He says that there's a big opening up ahead," Ron reported. "He says that Demetor is in there, working on some piece of machinery."

"What's he working on?" Kim asked.

"Let's just pretend that neither Rufus or I would understand what a super-genius mad scientist would come up with," Ron suggested, with a rather hard look at Kim.

"Right," Kim replied, with an apologetic nod. "I wonder what he's doing awake at this hour?"

"What do you mean?" Ron countered. "**We're** up."

"Yeah, but we're on a mission. It's after midnight and Dementor is still hard at it. He must really want to finish what he's working on."

"Either that or jetlag," Ron suggested.

"Jetlag?"

"Yeah, it's just after midnight here, but doesn't that make it midmorning, or later, in Germany?"

Kim considered it, then decided that this line of speculation was a waste of time. They decided to go in and try to determine what Dementor was up to, before starting a confrontation.

Team Possible crept into what they all considered the laboratory. As was usual, it was full of computers and completely unrecognizable equipment. Dementor was sitting at a PC, with his back to the door, completely absorbed in his work. Next to his PC, a large, clear vat held some bubbling liquid. Several wires ran from devices inside the vat to the computer at which he was working. The room's irregular shape meant that there were gaps between the rows of computers and the walls. Kim and Ron slunk into one of these gaps. Ron quickly started to trace computer wires while Kim sneaked closer to Dementor.

"Ja, ja, almozt," the pint-sized villain was muttering to himself as she approached. "Zoon I vill have it. Now, juzt adjuzt zee acid level and…"

He worked furiously at his keyboard for a few minutes. Kim heard some servos go active in the vat.

"Ja, even clozer. Perhaps if I adjuzted zee zignal, rather zan zee mix." More tapping sounded from the keyboard. Ron, moving like an oily shadow, joined her. The two listened for several more minutes then slipped farther away, so that they could converse."

"I don't understand," Ron whispered to her. "If German's his native language, why does he talk to himself in English?"

"Head in the game, Ron," Kim chastised him. Even though Ron had made himself a much better partner, he still had bouts of occasional randomness. What was worse, these random questions were usually hard to answer.

"What's the sitch?" She asked him.

"Found a network hub with a spare outlet," he reported. "I connected Wades extractor. He's trying to break in right now. I've also hidden the repeater as best I can. As long as we stay in here, we should be able to talk to him."

Kim nodded and activated her Kimmunicator, after turning down the volume.

"What do you have for us, Wade?" She asked.

"Nothing yet," he answered. "My hacking program has just broke in. The only thing I can tell you is that whatever it is, it has something to do with reacting a radio signal with a chemical."

"Eureka!" Dementor leapt to his feet. "I've done it! Now, can I replicate it at a larger zcale?"

The short megalomaniac punched some commands into his computer. In response, a very large vat, in another corner of the room, started to fill. Kim and Ron watched for several minutes, as Dementor ran some form of production sequence in the vat. Once finished, the short man studied his screen for a few more minutes then…

"Zuccess!!" He screamed, leaping into the air in pure joy. He grabbed a microphone. "All off duty guards, into der laboratory at once. All perzonel to bring one, complete zpare uniform, down to der zocks, der boots and der unervear."

Smiling broadly, the mad scientist pulled seven small tubs and seven mugs out of a storage cabinet. He drained the vat into these containers, filling the mugs and putting about three inches of the liquid in each of the tubs. Then he returned to the storage cabinet and pulled out a bundle of clothing. He had returned to the lined up tubs by the time the guards arrived. Kim and Ron remained hidden, hoping that the guards would be too sleepy to notice the repeater's cable.

"Okay, all of you drink one of der mugs and zoak your clothes in der tub," he instructed the men. None of them made a move.

"Alright, you don't truzt me?" He questioned. "Very vell, you!" He singled out one of his guards. "You pick out a tub and a mug, at random."

The man did so, and Dementor himself followed his own instructions. He drained the mug and dumped his clothing in the tub.

"Zoak der clothes completely," he instructed. "Dey haff to be completely zaturated. Vhen you're done, dry dem, den put dem on and return. Go!"

Once Dementor had demonstrated that the procedure was safe, or at least painless, his guards followed suit and filed out of the lab, presumably to go change. Kim, being as quiet as she could, relayed what was happening to Wade. Whatever the liquid was, it must have had a fairly low evaporation point, because Dementor's clothes were reasonably dry fairly quickly. Liberated and world-wise as she was, Kim still closed her eyes when he stripped down to put on his modified attire. She glared at Ron, who was snickering at her, when the Kimmunicator vibrated.

"Kim," Wade's urgent whisper grabbed the teens' attention. "This could be big trouble!"

"Clue me in, Wade," Ron protested. "But would we be here if it **couldn't** be big trouble? I mean, I can think of a lot of other places I'd like to be at two AM…urmph."

"What's the sitch?" Kim asked, after silencing her boyfriend with a well-placed elbow.

"The interaction between the liquid and the signal," Wade reported. "It looks like it could cause invisibility!"

"How is this possible?" Kim asked.

"The liquid can permeate any sort of biologic material, including living flesh. It will stay inside a human body for several hours. When it's exposed to a specific radio signal, it will react and make whatever it has saturated non-reactive to the visible spectrum."

"Could this explain the antenna above the mine?" Ron asked.

"Most likely," the young genius conceded. "It's probably also why he's doing his research underground. He can do all of his experiments with his radio waves, and the earth will block the transmissions. Nobody will intercept the signals and come looking for the source." The boy paused for a few moments. "There's something wrong with the invisibility but I just can't put my finger on it."

"Maybe we can…" Ron's speech was cut off when Kim elbowed him again. Dementor's henchmen were starting to file back into the lab, so the teens needed to be quiet. Unfortunately, one of the guards had woken up a little, and spotted the cable on the floor.

"Hey boss," he grumbled, hooking a finger under the cable and following it towards the teens' hiding place. "I don't remember this one, I thought you said no more wires coming into the lab after we tried to pirate cable off of the satellite receiver."

"Der zshouldn't be any cable's coming in dat door," Dementor commented. "Vhat iz it connected to?"

The guard followed the cable behind the row of computers. Team Possible, seeing that they couldn't remain hidden any more, leapt into action. The investigating guard had only a moment for his eyes to snap open when Ron grabbed his head and drove a knee into the man's chin. Dementor always seemed to have the biggest henchmen, so the guard didn't go down, although he was stunned. He flailed backwards, bounced off of a wall, and stumbled right back to Ron. Ron got behind him, kicked his feet out from under him, then hauled down hard on the back of his shirt. The man SLAMMED down, hard, flat on his back. Ron heard his breath whoosh out and knew that they wouldn't have to worry about him for at least a few minutes.

While Ron was teaching the first guard the costs of curiosity, Kim vaulted over the computers and lit into the rest of the still sleepy guards in a literal tornado of fists and feet. By the time Ron had incapacitated the first guard, Kim had three others down. Kim and Ron faced off against the last two when suddenly, Dementor got over his shock.

"Kim Pozzible," he shrieked. "Vhat are you doing here?"

"We're here to stop you're plans, Dementor," Kim declared. "You're a wanted man, and you're not welcome on this continent."

"Four of your guards are down," Ron added. "That leaves two more and you; do the math, dude, you can't win. Why don't you just give up now? We can end this with no explosions, no more injuries and no more pain."

"Since vhen do you vork vit a bat?" The mad scientist was staring at the still disguised Rufus, who was clinging to Ron's shoulder. "And vhy is der bat just hanging on you and not flying around?" He frowned. "Vhy is der bat zitting upright, don't dey hang upzide down?"

_Mental note, Dementor can be distracted with small mammals_. Kim thought. Then she said, "It doesn't matter, professor. Now, are you going to give up, like my partner suggested, or are we going to have to do this the hard way?" The remaining guards, at least, seemed to favor giving up.

"Zo he iz your partner? Vhat happened to der zidekick vit der rat?"

"That's me, dude!" Ron yelled. "And quit stalling! You're just trying to keep us talking until you're guards get back up!"

"Zo, your partner iz a zmart boy," Dementor addressed Kim. "To bad for you dat I've already finished my research." He reached a small lever on the control panel next to him. "Kim Pozzible, can you fight vhat you cannot zee?" Shrieking with maniacal laughter, Dementor threw the lever.

Dementor and his six guards faded into invisibility. Kim and Ron shared a panicked look.

Wade, listening in on the Kimmunicator, had been keeping up with events in the laboratory.

"Wade, he did it!" Kim's face and voice were both frightened. "They're invisible! Do you have any ideas…"

Loud screaming drowned out her request.

* * *

_A/N_

_As always, thank you all for reading. I really appreciate the reviews I have received up to this point._

_A big thanks to Joe Stoppinghem for his invaluable Beta reading services._

_Today, being Sunday, June 15 prompts me to wish a very happy Father's Day to all my fellow fathers who may be reading this. _

_Best wishes;_

_daccu65_


	11. Rescue and Reconcilliation

Chapter 11: Rescue and Reconciliation

Wade was nearly panicking, but his overly logical brain told him that the screams were going on for far too long. While he had every confidence in Kim and Ron's abilities, how long could they hold out, trapped in an underground lab full of big, burly, invisible guards? The boy nearly fainted with relief when Kim called again.

"Wade," she gasped. "Something weird is going on here."

"What's your sitch?" Wade had always wanted to use Kim's trademark phrase.

"Dementor and his guards," she informed him "They all became invisible but they didn't attack us. They all started yelling and screaming. Ron and I have ducked into a corner, out of the way, but I don't think that anyone is trying to find us. Dementor didn't treat his helmet. He fell down shortly after turning invisible, but he's gotten up but he isn't moving around, he's just bouncing up and down."

"Are the guards in pain?" Wade asked. "What are they yelling about."

"It's kind of hard to make out, but there's an awful lot of 'where are you' and 'I can't see anything' mixed in with the shouts," Kim answered. "I mean, how scary can being invisible be?"

It was like a light had just come on in Wade's head. "That's what was wrong with Dementor's plan!" He shouted over the communication channel.

Back in the lair, Kim and Ron shared a questioning glance. "Uh, Wade," Ron said. "Why don't you pretend that I'm not a super-genius sitting in a safe, comfortable room?"

"Okay guys, here's what happened," despite the danger, Wade had to smile at Ron. "Dementor's process made his and the guards' living tissues transparent to visible light."

"I understand that," Ron answered.

"This included their optic nerves," Wade informed him. Kim's eyes widened in the beginning of understanding. Ron, however, was still in the dark.

"Wade, Kim's a brain, I'm not," he said. "You're going to have to do better."

"Okay, Ron, do you understand how you see things?" Wade asked.

"Yeah, it has something to do with light being reflected off of things and hitting my eyes," he answered.

"Okay, your eyes focus the light onto your optic nerves," Wade explained. "The light reacts with these nerves, and you're brain uses these reactions to form the images you see. Now, Dementor's process made these nerves transparent to visible light, so they won't react to it."

"Meaning that the guards can't see," Kim concluded.

Ron's expression showed that now he understood the situation, but was absolutely terrified.

"Ron, what's wrong?" Kim asked.

"Are you guys trying to say," he replied, with a visible effort to keep his panic in check. "That right now, we have a mad scientist and six blind, invisible guards freaking out in a laboratory full of equipment that just might explode if mishandled?"

Both Kim and Wade stared, wide eyed, for several endless seconds.

"I think that this just became an emergency rescue mission," Kim commented.

"Right, KP," Ron answered. "I've got an idea."

"Ron, this isn't the time to fool around," she retorted.

"Hello! I'm the one who can deal with scared people," Ron was indignant. "We have seven scared people out there right now!"

"Ron, this is serious!"

"And I'm not? Look, KP, I don't want to get blown up, either."

"Okay, let's hear your plan," Kim conceded. After a few minutes of Ron explaining, she nodded her head. "Okay, let's do it."

Ron stepped away from the corner and bellowed as loudly as he could. Dementor and his guards went silent, momentarily, and Ron spoke into this silence.

"Professor, everyone else, we're going to get you out of here," He spoke loudly, but in as calm a voice as he could. "We're going to get you to medical attention, but we need you to work with us. Professor, do you understand?"

"Ja," the response came from where Dementor's helmet floated near the workstation.

"Good," Ron replied. "First of all, I need you all to just hold still. We don't want you bumping into any of this equipment. We will get you out of here. Professor, does your barracks have kitchen facilities?"

"Ja," Dementor responded again.

"Talk to them, KP," Ron instructed Kim. Kim nodded as Ron ran for the barracks.

"Okay everybody," Kim addressed the group. "We don't want to grope blindly for all of you. My partner is going to get some flour to sprinkle around, so that we can find you. Once we can see you, we'll lead you out of here. Do you all understand?"

Kim heard a series of agreements, then Dementor addressed her.

"Vhy don't you have der bat locate us vit echolocation?" The man's voice asked.

"He's not a bat, he's a disguised, naked mole rat."

"Vhat do you accomplish by disguising der rodent as der bat?" Dementor's curiosity seemed to have squashed his panic.

"It's a long story, and highly secret."

"Okay," Dementor sounded dubious, obviously still contemplating the advantages of disguising a rodent. "Vhy are you using flour to vind everybody? Vhy not just feel around until you locate everyone?"

"We don't want to take the chance of bumping into someone and falling into this equipment," Kim replied, disguising the fact that doing as Dementor suggested would give his guards the chance to grapple them.

"Den vhy don't you just shut off der zignal?"

"We don't know your systems, professor. What kind of damage could we do if we start hitting controls at random?"

"Good point."

By this time, Ron had returned with a bag of flour. He sprinkled it around and the six henchmen were soon dusted with the white powder.

"Okay, everybody," Ron announced. "We can see you. We are going to use our handcuffs to link you all together, so we don't lose anybody. Everybody just stay still and let us get you."

In a few minutes, Kim and Ron led all of the henchmen, and Dementor, to one wall. They lined everybody up and linked their wrists with the handcuffs, forming the group into a long chain. They put Dementor at the front of the line.

"Okay," Ron told them. "Now we're going to lead you out of the mine. Professor, are you transmitting your invisibility signal outside of the mine?"

"Nein," the short scientist answered. "Dis procedure vaz juzt a tezt. I vasn't going to tranzmit above ground until I vas ready to make uze of der invizability."

"Okay, take your time, everybody." Ron instructed them. "Once we get outside, the blindness should wear off. Won't it, professor?"

"Ja, but it may take zome time."

"How much time?"

"It depends on der body mass of der zubject. Der largest guardz may take up to tventy minutes."

"Okay, but it **will** wear off," Ron informed the nervous guards. "Professor, when we get close to the mine entrance, I want you to tell the guards there to surrender. Unless you want us fighting them while all of you are in the middle of it, blind and invisible."

"Good point."

It took almost a half-hour to get Dementor and the guards to the entrance. Leading a group of blind, invisible (except for some flour) and nervous guards through a rough-hewn tunnel is more difficult than it may sound. When they approached the entrance, Team Possible enlisted the only two visible, seeing guards to assist them. Outside the mine, the henchmen's clothing began to fade back into view almost immediately, but the guards themselves took longer. Wade had called Global Justice as soon as Kim and Ron had confirmed Dementor's presence, and a prisoner transportation team arrived as the guards began to fade into view.

The Global Justice crew loaded Dementor and his henchmen up and hauled them off to a holding facility, and eventual extradition to Europe. The crew informed Kim that they had another vehicle in route, to transport Team Possible back to Middleton. Kim and Ron were exhausted, they had put in a strenuous day and it was now close to 3:00 AM. The two teens had just enough time to recover their equipment before their ride, a self-guided hoverdisc, arrived. The teens climbed aboard and the disc took off, just as a Global Justice investigative team arrived to study the now deserted lair.

Kim called Wade and updated him as to Team Possible's status. The boy genius informed her that he would make sure that their parents knew that they were safe and on their way home. With that taken care of, Kim signed off, looked at Ron, and breathed a heavy sigh. Her boyfriend had pulled a towelette out of his mission gear and was using it to clean Rufus, avoiding eye contact with her. Once the bad guys had been loaded up, he had become sullen, distant. Something was bothering him and she had to deal with it, no matter how tired he was.

"So Ron," she said, trying to break the ice. "Why did you save the empty flour bag?"

"I'll wait until this action shows up on the news, then I'll give the bag to the Flour Company. Companies like to have memorabilia, like it, to show on their walls. They'll probably frame it and hang it up with a label that says something like 'truly ALL PURPOSE flour.'"

Kim smiled at the joke despite her tension, but she was still troubled. Ron hadn't looked up while he was talking. She smiled again as Rufus indicated that he wanted Ron to scrub his back some more.

"When did you get the wrist-grapple?" She asked him. He looked up at her, a question on his face. "I saw you use it when we went down the ventilation shaft. I didn't realize that Wade made one for you."

"It's not from Wade, it's from Yamanouchi," Ron informed her, gently scrubbing at a smiling Rufus's back. "Sensei wanted me to have something from the school with me and it…showed up earlier this week."

"Why did you link the guards together with handcuffs?" She asked, still trying to get him to open up. "Wouldn't it have been easier to have them hold hands, or something like that?"

"Yeah," he agreed. "But then they might have gotten some ideas about fighting once we got them out of the mine. This way, they were confined for Global Justice."

"That was good thinking," She complimented him.

"Thanks, Kim."

Kim flinched when she heard her name. That confirmed that he was upset with her. He never used her name, only her initials, unless he was upset. She sighed again. She didn't want to deal with this right now; she wanted to go to sleep, like Rufus was crawling into Ron's pocket to do. She wanted Ron to lay down on the bench seat so that she could lay down on top of him, pillow her head on his chest, feel his arms wrap around her back, and nap all the way home. She thought about just cuddling up to him and counting on his hormones to override his bad mood, but decided against it. First of all, it probably wouldn't work and secondly; even if it did work, he would realize it later and resent her for it. Despite her fatigue, she had to deal with this now.

"What's wrong, Ron?" She asked, getting straight to the point.

"What makes you think something's wrong?" He asked, evasively.

"C'mon Ron, I know when you're upset, just like when you know I am. You're mad at me and I want to know why."

"It's nothing," he muttered, still not meeting her eyes. "I'll get over it."

"NO!" Her sharp retort snapped Ron's head up. "We're not going to let you just get over it," she insisted. "Remember when I locked you in the closet? You didn't say anything to me, you just let it fester inside you and it almost cost us…US! We can't work that way, Ron; not anymore!"

"I'm still your best friend," she pleaded, tears starting to form in her eyes. "But we're more than that now. I don't want us to break up over something I do, but you have to let me know when I do something! I'm taking us seriously, aren't you serious about us?"

"Of course I am! You're the best thing that ever happened to me!"

"Then tell me why you're upset!"

Ron took several deep breaths, calming himself and considering what he was about to say. Finally, "Kim, do you remember the lessons you learned at Yamanouchi?"

"Of course, they were good for both of us."

"What did you learn about dealing with me?"

"That you're better at some things than I am, and I have to make use of that."

"And one of the things that I'm good at is dealing with frightened people," Ron pointed out.

Kim nodded her agreement.

"Why didn't you trust me to do that?" Ron's voice was quavering as he asked the question. Kim couldn't remember him ever looking so hurt. "In the mine, I told you that I had a plan, but the first thing you could say was to quit fooling around."

Kim lowered her head, realizing what hearing that must have been like for him. She had been making comments like that, to him, for years and for years he had just shrugged them off. What had changed?

_For one thing, he's stepped up, for me_, she realized. _He isn't the silly, random misfit that comes along just because he's my friend. __He's now my partner, even if he insists that he's my assistant. He's giving me his all and he deserves, he knows that he deserves, my respect. More than that, he's my boyfriend now. He's opened himself to me, completely, and these comments are going to hurt him more than ever before._

Kim frowned; _did he really shrug off the comments over the years? How many times, after a mission, did he go completely silent and I was too busy with homework, or something else, to notice? How many times did he just go home after a mission, without saying anything? Just how much has he put up with, over the years?_

Kim took a few more minutes to compose herself, realizing that her next words and actions were going to be very important. Ron was slumped forward on his seat, his elbows on his knees and his hands hanging limply in front of him. His face was down, looking unseeingly at the deck. Kim stepped forward and knelt in front of him.

"Ron," she said. "Let's get something straight between us, right now. I'm not very considerate of the people I love the most. I'm a perfectionist and I'm impulsive; add the two together and you have someone who can really run over everyone else, even someone whom she loves."

Ron looked up a little, not quite meeting her eyes. She reached forward and took his hands in hers.

"So before I say anything else," she continued. "I have to say how terribly, terribly sorry I am for just…dismissing you without even considering that you have something to offer. Everyone at Yamanouchi tried to hammer that into my head, but it's just going to take some time. So I have to ask you to let me know when I do something like this, so that I can learn from it."

Ron had actually managed to look her in the face again. He was still hurt, but he was feeling better about it. She leaned forward and touched her forehead to his.

"But at the same time, you have to change to," Kim informed him, staring straight into his eyes. "Ron, this might hurt, but you did have a few…random moments back there."

His eyes widened slightly and he finally met her gaze. She could see that he was reviewing the mission in his mind.

"Like when I asked Wade if we would even be in there if it couldn't be dangerous?" He finally asked her.

"And when you asked about the language Dementor uses to talk to himself," she confirmed. "Ron, it was dangerous in there, and it just wasn't the place to start…speculating like that."

"So if I keep my head in the game, you'll listen to me more?"

"I'm going to listen to you no matter what," Kim told him, flinching at his plaintive question. "But if you keep your head in the game, it will be a lot easier for me."

"I guess I should quit with the random comments." Ron stated.

"Not all the time!" Kim insisted. "Ron, if you had made those comments now, on the trip out, or maybe when we discuss the mission with Wade, it would be hilarious." She reached forward and took her face in her hands. "I never want you to quit being you! I'm absolutely nuts over my goofy, sometimes random boyfriend. Just…be goofy and random when we aren't in danger."

"I'll try," he said, with a nod. "But I'm going to be just like you. I need you to let me know when I get…random when I shouldn't."

"It's a deal."

Ron nodded again, "Thanks KP, and I'm sorry."

"You're welcome," Kim replied, thrilling to hear her initials again. "And you're forgiven."

Ron reached up and pulled her into a tight embrace, which she eagerly returned. They sealed their apologies and reconciliation with a kiss, then Kim pushed Ron down until he was lying on the seat. She bundled up one their jackets, which Ron used as a pillow. Kim, just as she had wanted, settled herself down on top of him, resting her head on his chest. She sighed in contentment as she felt his arms wrap around her. After a relatively quick, goodnight kiss the two teens settled in to sleep for a couple of hours on the trip home. Kim was content; they had faced another crises, as a couple, and had come out of it stronger.

* * *

Shego didn't know whom, other than her lawyer, would even want to visit her. First of all, prospective visitors had to go through a lengthy and unpleasant, security inspection. Secondly, visiting hours were not set; they were held at varying hours during the day. The only constant for them was that they were always when most people were asleep. Thus, someone really had to want to visit her. She couldn't keep from feeling a certain excitement as she approached the appointed room.

That excitement quickly vanished and she repressed an urge to turn around and return to her cell when a familiar, huge man, on the other side of the Plexiglas, stood up. Then she shrugged; she might as well meet with him. If nothing else, it would be something different than just sitting around her cell.

"Shelly," the big man greeted her as she approached her chair.

"Hego," she said, rolling her eyes in disgust. "Do you really think we need to use our code names in here? The guards know who you are and they sure as heck know who I am."

"It's our standard procedure," the big man protested.

"And you always follow procedure, even when it's asinine," she retorted, taking her seat. Once she had sat down, Hego returned to his own chair.

"Always the proper gentleman," she snorted. "You don't have to act like that here. We're family and even without that, I'm not exactly what you could call a lady."

"Do you have to belittle everyone around you?" Her brother asked.

"Well, lets say that if I ever find anyone who doesn't irritate me 24/7, I'll curb my tongue."

"I'm at the top of your list of people who irritate you, aren't I?"

"Yes, you are!" Shego snarled at him. "And you know why!"

"My attitude," Hego's voice was as calm as ever.

"Yes, your attitude! You've always had your 'holier than thou,' self-sacrificing, 'all for the common good,' eagle-scout attitude! Everything's always been good versus evil, cut and dried for you. You've always done your duty, even when nobody wanted you to and that includes right now!"

"What do you think I'm doing, sister?"

"You're trying to rehabilitate me," Shego snarled the words. "You're trying to show me that you'll always be my brother, no matter how evil I've become. You're thinking that just that little demonstration of family love and support will bring me back to the light, or some other nonsense."

Shego rose to her feet, prompting her gentlemanly older brother to follow suit. In retrospect, Shego had to admit that what she did next was rather silly. The combination of six inches of exotic polymer separating her from her brother, the plasma-resistant mittens on her hands and the fact that her brother towered a good two feet taller than she did combined to detract from the threatening posture she had assumed.

"I don't want to return to your team," she grated at her brother. "I am what I've made myself and I have no intention of changing."

"And where has that gotten you, Shego?" Hego's calm, quiet question silenced her.

Shego shoulders slumped in defeat and she returned to her chair. She flopped down and hung her head. Contrary to one of the rules of proper etiquette, when Shego didn't have something sarcastic to say, she usually didn't say anything.

"I'm not here to rehabilitate you, or to try to make you feel guilty," Hego informed her, after it became obvious that she wasn't going to speak unless prompted.

"So why **are** you here?" Shego didn't even bother raising her head to look at him.

"Because you're my sister," he answered.

"Great," she snorted. "Now I'm either a pity case or a family responsibility."

"If you choose to feel that way, so be it. The fact is, you're family and a former teammate. It's both my responsibility and my pleasure to be of any help to you that I can."

"Help me?" Shego looked up at him with an incredulous stare. "How are you going to help me? I can't see you breaking me out of here!"

"Of course not," Hego's tone was indignant. "But if there is anything that you can use, and I can obtain for you, just ask-"

"Hego, they're going to kill me!" She roared at the big man, springing to her feet again. Again, as etiquette demanded, he rose to his feet, as well.

"I don't understand," he confessed. "I haven't heard anything about the prosecution pushing for the death penal-"

"Have all those muscles pushed your brains out of your ears?" She demanded. "Haven't you figured out that not all of the so-called good guys have your anally retentive goody-goody attitude? One of these days, one of these guards is going to decide to do the public a favor and pump me full of lead. He'll claim that I was attacking him and who'll question him?"

"Can you really blame them…NO!" He shook his head. After a moment had passed, Hego spoke again, with sadness in his voice; "I promised myself that I wouldn't turn this into a morality lecture."

"Why not, you've got a captive audience," she shook her head at her own pun and returned to her chair. "And to answer your question, no I can't blame them. If the roles were reversed, well, let's just say that if I had anybody I cared enough about to take revenge for, I'd do the same."

She dropped her head again and struggled with the tears that threatened to spill. Finally, more out of a desire to distract herself, rather than real curiosity, she spoke again.

"Did Mego and the Wego come through the Diablo Attack okay? I can't quite see you guys just sitting around and waiting it out."

"We fought,' Hego recalled, returning to his own chair. "Even though we didn't have much effect on the outcome. I destroyed several of the robots and Mego was even more effective. He was able to shrink down, crawl inside the giant robots, and wreck havoc with the circuitry. The Wego kept most of the robots busy chasing them, so the damage to Go City was minimal. We are all uninjured, although we would have certainly been crushed if Team Possible hadn't removed the antenna when the did."

"Yeah, that's another score I have to settle with the princess and the dork."

"A score to settle?" Hego looked genuinely concerned for his sister. "Shego, when are you just going to let go of your hate? This…vendetta against Kim Possible isn't gaining you anything."

"It's all I have!" She snapped, leaping to her feet again, and again, Hego rose to his own feet. "Listen, you lummox; I'm not the forgive and forget type, that's another reason I left the team. I'm not like you! I don't think the way you do. You thrive on an adoring public; all those mindless idiots singing your praises. I don't! That's not what I want."

"What do you want, Shell…Shego?" Hego was as intent as always.

"I want what I had with Doctor D," she informed him. "I had money, respect, and authority. Doctor D gave me the jobs to do, I did them, and he paid me well. If his latest scheme had worked out, I would have had it all."

"You want to dominate the world?"

"Of course not!" She snorted. "Ruling the world means making it work right. Could you picture me in a meeting, trying to balance wheat production from the north China plain against bread consumption in the Middle East? Or listening to reports on cotton production from Alabama and matching that with textile mill capacity in India and clothing needs in Saudi Arabia? No, Drakken would have thrived on that and I would have had the benefits. I would have had a luxury house, a stable of fine studs to take care of everything I wanted, and the occasional job of busting a would-be hero, just to keep myself in shape. That's what I want."

"It seems like a shallow life to me," Hego commented. "But since it's beyond your reach, are you going to use your trial to embarrass Kim Possible?"

"What makes you think I'll do that?" Shego asked, defensively.

"You say that I'm stupid," Hego explained. "That's not exactly correct. I'm impractical and ignorant but I'm not stupid. Your best chance of lightening your sentence is to destroy the credibility of Kim and Ron's testimony. The best way to do that is to play on their emotions."

Shego nodded and returned to her chair. (Hego sat down again.) Her brother was right, he wasn't the idiot she pretended he was, he was just, intentionally naïve. While he couldn't come to grips with her mindset, he **could** figure out her most logical course of action. I he could figure it out…

"So, I suppose Global Justice has a couple of legal experts getting the princes and the dork ready for it." Her statement was part question, part conversation.

"I would guess so," he mused. "Global Justice keeps it's…affiliated teams appraised of each other's situations. Both Team Go and Team Impossible know that Team Possible is undergoing some legal council." He paused, "so, knowing that they are preparing themselves for your…verbal assault, are you still going to go through with it?"

She nodded.

"But why?" His question was almost pleading.

"Evil works for its own ends," she explained. "And it's my best chance. Besides," and here her voice became bitter, "when all you have left are revenge and anger, you make use of them."

* * *

_A/N_

_Again, I thank all of you who have been reading this story. I honestly can't express my thanks to those of you who have taken the time to leave reviews and/or send me a PM. The feedback, both positive and negative, is a great help._

_Finally, thanks again to Joe Stoppinghem, my beta reader._

_Until next chapter, best wishes_

_daccu65_


	12. Saturday

Chapter 12: Saturday

Kim concentrated on her opponent and knew that her opponent was studying her, as well. Both were soaking wet and breathing hard from their exertions. Suddenly, her opponent's steed charged forward and hers surged to meet him. The two crashed together with a solid thump and began to drive into each other, each trying to force the other off-balance and give their rider an edge. Kim managed to get a grip on Cindy's wrist and with Ron pulling away from Oscar, managed to pull Cindy off of Oscar's shoulders and into the cool waters of Lake Middleton.

The four teens had been 'camel-fighting' for hours and were having just about as much fun as any of them could remember. Both girls had wound up in the water more than once, usually dragging their boyfriends under with them, as the two teams were fairly well matched. Oscar was a little larger, and stronger, than Ron while Kim had the strength advantage on Cindy. For once, Kim's natural 'Kimness' wasn't demanding that she win these contests. Rather, it was her boyfriend's actions. Every time the two of them wound up under water, Ron tried to nip her toes. Her surprised shriek, the first time he had done so, had turned heads all over the public swimming area. In addition to this, her head had been mostly underwater when he had done so, and her resulting inhalation had brought in enough water to leave her coughing for several minutes. She fully intended on having a few words with him when she got him alone.

With the exception of her BFBF's habit of bringing his teeth in contact with her toes, it had been a wonderful day. Cindy, Kim, and Oscar had shown up at the Stoppables' shortly after the family had returned from Temple. Ron had finished his room earlier in the week and the four teens teemed up to move Ron out of his old room and into his new one. With four fit, energetic teens working on it, the chore had taken a little more than an hour. It would have taken less time except for two incidents.

The first incident was the discovery of a sandwich, age unknown but considerable, that they had discovered when they moved Ron's bed. The offending, one-time foodstuff had been hiding under an old towel. When Cindy had innocently grabbed the towel, the odor from the sandwich had sent all four teens running outside, gagging. The other three teens had sent Ron in to dispose of both the towel and the one-time foodstuff, as well as open all of his windows. Even so, it had been several minutes before any of them would enter the room again.

The second incident was the discovery of Ron's, official (and signed by Timothy North) Fearless Ferret pajamas. Oscar had come across them and Ron had made the mistake of admitting that he wore them up until the previous year. With Ron's luck being what it was, Cindy and Kim had just walked into his room in time to catch the admission. The resulting giggle-fest (for everyone except Ron) had been bad enough. The next several minutes of work had been even worse. Ron and Oscar had been hauling Ron's dresser up the outside staircase when Cindy sidled up behind her boyfriend and asked if he was prepared to 'ferret out evil.' Oscar, of course, had found himself unable to stand, much less help with the piece of furniture. Ron had calmly set his end of the furniture down, stood up, and dropped his pants with all the dignity as he could muster. This move had exposed his official, Fearless Ferret boxers. His three companions had difficulty breathing for a good piece of time. Ron's predicament wasn't helped by the fact that his mother chose that moment to walk around the house and catch the full view.

Despite the distractions, the four teens had gotten Ron moved into his new room fairly quickly. As soon as they were finished, Gene Stoppable gave his car keys to Ron, who's ears were still ringing from his mother's lecture, and suggested that they all go out and have fun for the rest of the day, but to return that evening for a cookout and Ron's surprise. The four teens got together and decided on a trip to Lake Middleton. One thing led to another and soon they were camel-fighting in the beach area.

Having successfully unseated Cindy, Kim spared a glance at the beach area. Bonnie and Brick had been there when the four arrived. Bonnie, of course, stared down her nose at the four, clearly considering their enthusiastic activities to be childish. Although she was out of earshot, it was clear that she and Brick had exchanged some harsh words. Kim smiled, convinced that Brick had suggested the two join in on the fun.

"I've had about enough of the dunking," Cindy declared. "I think a little bit of tanning is in order."

Kim was forced to agree. The water was cool and her small body chilled easily, so an extended bout of sun-soaking sounded wonderful. She slid, somewhat reluctantly, off of Ron's shoulders and headed for the beach. The four teens spread out some beach towels and indulged in that traditional teenager's beach pastime: boyfriends smearing sunblock on their girlfriends. It was hard to say who enjoyed the process the most but all too soon the girls were properly basted and soaking up some UV rays. Ron, of course, started to fidget within minutes of lying down on his own towel.

Kim knew her boyfriend well; give him a game controller or park him in front of a TV and he could marinate for hours. Force him in to inactivity without anything to distract him and he would either be asleep, or fidgeting, within five minutes. Kim glanced over to Cindy, intent on commiserating, to notice that Oscar was also fidgeting. She watched, amused, while the boys made valiant efforts to enjoy soaking up the sun (and noticing that Cindy was also enjoying the entertainment). She glanced towards Bonnie and noted that Brick seemed to be fidgeting, as well.

Tired of the inactivity, Ron and Oscar put their heads together, then retrieved a football from the car and headed off to talk to Brick. Brick was more than happy to see them heading his way and was on his feet before they even got near him. A few minutes later, Ron and Oscar were running patterns as Brick tossed the ball. Kim and Cindy smirked at Bonnie's irritation.

Bonnie had obviously wanted to spend the day soaking up the sun, with her blond Adonis next to her, fulfilling her need to make every boy want her and every girl want to be her. She was more than a little put out when Oscar and Ron, two boys not even on the food chain, hijacked her arm-candy. What was even funnier was that she really couldn't complain about it. Brick was on a football scholarship to Go City University, so every bit of practice he could get in was a benefit. While Brick wasn't the brightest person in the classroom, he was a near genius on the football field, so he could even claim, truthfully, to be helping his alma mater by giving the two younger boys some pointers.

There was a moderate crowd at the beach that day so it wasn't long before more boys drifted over to the football-throwing trio and soon a small crowd was playing some beach football. Kim smiled, liking the idea of Ron being able to mingle, freely, with boys he barely knew. Ordinarily, she would join Ron in athletic activities like this, but she had never really enjoyed playing football. Of course, she didn't' mind tackling Ron every now and then…

"Kim," Cindy interrupted her musings. "When are the tryouts for the football cheerleading squad?"

"I'd have to look at my calendar for the exact date," Kim replied. "But they're the week before school starts. Why?"

"Oh, I was thinking about trying out for the squad, rather than running cross-country this fall."

"We **do** have two slots to fill," Kim admitted. "You'll have to audition, like everyone else, but I'd say you have a good chance of making it. Why aren't you running cross country this year?"

"I just wanted a change of pace," Cindy admitted. "Besides, I'm the senior reporter for the school newspaper this year and I'd like to report on the games from a cheerleader's perspective."

Kim studied her brunette companion for a few minutes. While Cindy had never cheered at either football or basketball games, Kim knew that she was capable of performing the acrobatic moves needed. All cheerleaders did these in rehearsal. For some reason, Cindy had always preferred cheering at wrestling matches to cheering at basketball games.

"Why did you start cheering at wrestling matches?" Kim asked her. Despite both being cheerleaders, Kim had never considered herself close enough to Cindy to ask her before.

"I like wrestling," Cindy admitted. "I enjoyed watching it more than basketball, so I decided to cheer at the matches rather than the games. The cheerleaders get the best view of the matches."

"Did you get together with Oscar because he's a good wrestler?" While Kim wasn't much of a gossipmonger, she **was** curious.

"Not because he was a **good** wrestler" Cindy informed her. "But I got to know him because he was on the team. He's really shy around people he doesn't know well, but he's a real goof around his friends." Cindy shook her head in confusion. "That's something I can't figure out about him. Put him out on the mat, and he'll stick his forehead in a complete stranger's armpit too turn him over on his back, but he's shy about saying 'hello' to that same stranger on the street. Anyway, I liked his sense of humor and his manners but I was a little shy about just asking him out so I talked to Sue. She was dating R…" Cindy stammered to a stop, embarrassed.

"It's okay," Kim assured her with a smile. "I'm not his first girlfriend and he's not my first boyfriend. I take it that Sue and Ron set the two of you up."

"Yeah, our first date was a double with Sue and Ron."

"Oh, that sleigh ride through Middleton Park?"

"Yeah, did Ron tell you about that?"

"No, I actually saw you guys," Kim recalled with a smile. "As far as first dates go, that one looks like it'd be hard to beat."

"It was a good one," Cindy admitted. "I know that Oscar's not that much to look at, at least not at first, but he's a really nice guy and we have a good time." She sighed a little. "I just wish Bonnie would back off of us."

"What's the deal with that?" Kim asked. "I mean, I've seen her come up to you guys and make comments that seemed to tick you guys off a little, but neither of you have ever mentioned anything about it."

"I think that it's just Bonnie being… Bonnie." Cindy replied. "She seems to think that the only way to build herself up is by tearing other people down. She used to give Ron all that grief, but then she saw what he went through on prom night so she really can't call him names anymore without making herself look bad. She gave Oscar grief for awhile but he just ignored it so she kind of shifted to me. She keeps asking me when I'm going to ditch the 'low budget import' for a quality boyfriend. It really gets to him but he keeps his mouth shut." She gave a little sigh. "Kim, if I make the football squad, she's going to have more opportunities to heckle me about it, won't she?"

"Yeah, but then I can deal with it," Kim informed her friend. "All you have to do is tell me that it's bothering you and I, as squad captain, can tell her to back off."

"Ladies," Ron interrupted the conversation, ambling up to the girls alongside Oscar. "I think that it's about time to head back to town for dinner."

The other three teens agreed and gathered their things. They said goodbye to Bonnie and Brick. Brick gave them an enthusiastic 'catch you later' while Bonnie simply turned her nose up at the foursome. Shaking their heads slightly, they piled into the Stoppables' car and headed back to town.

Mr. and Mrs. Stoppable set the four teens at a picnic table in the backyard. Ron had come by his cooking skills honestly, so there were no complaints about the cuisine. About the only thing that detracted from the evening, at least in Ron's opinion, was that Monique was working and Felix was out of town, and couldn't make it. After the four teens, two adults, and one quadruped had eaten perhaps two much, Gene Stoppable stood up and ushered everybody to the garage.

"Everybody, we've chosen this day to celebrate a couple of milestones for our family," he informed his audience. "Before I go into these events, I would like to thank all of you for helping Ronald first build, then move into, his new room. The meal we provided was the least we could do to thank you."

"Now, for our events. The first one you probably know, Ron here will turn seventeen next week. The second event will be news to Ron, as well. Son, we heard from the agency yesterday. While we still have some work to do, we will complete the adoption process in the next forty days. You should be able to greet your new sister around the time the school year begins."

There were congratulations all around at the second piece of news. Ron was very happy that his parents wouldn't have to face the 'empty nest syndrome' in a little over a year.

"Now, on to what's underneath the tarp," Gene continued. "When Dr. Drakken attempted his take over scheme this spring, the four of you wound up sacrificing Ron's old scooter. A scooter seems a small price to pay for avoiding global tyranny, but Ron's been without transportation ever since. Ron, please remove the tarp and tell me what you think of your gift."

Ron's smile was huge as he stepped forward and yanked on the tarp, with a flourish. He revealed a very large, powerful motorcycle that looked vaguely familiar.

"Thanks, dad," he said, examining the machine. "I don't see any manufacturer's logo. This is a great bike but where did you get it?"

"It turns out that Edward Lipsky left his bike double-parked the night he attempted…what he did at the gymnasium," Gene informed his son. "The police impounded his vehicle, then auctioned it when he made his plea-bargain. I thought you'd like a completely customized, unique bike."

"Dad, it's great," Ron enthused. "But riding Motor-Ed's machine? That's either wrongsick or totally badical."

"I'll go for badical," Kim informed him. "Motor Ed hates us anyway, so it's not like we're calling him out or anything. We helped bring him down, we might as well get some of the benefits."

"I like it," Ron declared. "Thanks dad! By the way, is it…"

"Fueled up, the title's in your name, and there just happens to be two helmets on the workbench over there," Gene informed him. "We had to modify the frame since Ed's a rather large man. I don't think you would have been able to reach the handlebars on a machine made for a six-foot six man."

"Dad, it's perfect," Ron put on one of the helmets and settled himself on the machine. He noticed that Kim was pulling on the other helmet.

"KP, care to accompany on my maiden voyage on my new machine?" Ron asked.

"You better believe it," Kim informed him. "But, one thing Ron."

"Yeah?"

"If you ever refer to the passenger section of the seat as the that which begins with B, followed by seat, you're going to be looking long and hard for another co-pilot."

* * *

DNAmy glanced at the clock in her lab. It showed two-thirty in the morning. She didn't care, preferring to put in long hours once she was on a roll. She gave off a sigh, missing her Monty. He was in the safe-house back in the Sates while she continued her work in Belize. It was probably for the best; this arrangement let her work without any distractions and he probably wouldn't approve of her experiment's subject. At least he had thrown off a little bit of his funk and had started to work out again.

She considered putting off the next step of her work until she had some sleep, then decided against it. The pieces were all in place so she might as well continue. She had isolated what she called the restructuring genes and was ready to proceed. Her test subject was anesthetized and immobilized on a surgical table. She applied a tourniquet to the spider monkey's left arm then amputated the limb. A consummate professional, she left enough skin on her subject's stump to act as a bandage for the wound. Finished, she inserted several IV needles before stepping back from her subject and to a workstation.

She worked the controls, causing the monkey's restraints to release. More commands caused a robot arm to lift the netting, upon which the monkey was lying, lifting the small creature and carrying it to a large, glass tank. Amy lowered the monkey into the tank, then filled it with the proper chemicals, converting the tank into what she referred to as an artificial womb. Next, Amy reviewed the monitoring equipment, assuring herself that the automated systems would keep anesthetics and nutrients flowing to her test subject. Satisfied, she moved on to the next step.

She had previously removed cells from the monkey's brain stem, and had spliced the restructuring genes, as well as other genes, into these cells. She now injected these cells back into the monkey's brain stem along with drugs, which would cause the genes in these modified cells to dominate the actions within the brain. She hadn't altered the monkey's basic DNA, since its DNA already included the arm she had removed. Instead, the procedure she had just completed should, in theory, cause the monkey's own body to re-grow the limb. Satisfied that the automated systems would monitor her subject, Amy staggered off to bed.

Inside the artificial womb, deep in the sleeping monkey's brain, an awareness, too primitive to be considered a thought, stirred. For lack of a better term, this awareness was the core of the creature's identity as a monkey. This awareness hadn't stirred when the monkey had been captured and maimed, as violence was part of a monkey's natural world, a state of existence to which the creature was accustomed. But when Amy's restructuring genes activated, they invaded the monkey's body and made it something…other than a monkey. Sensing this alteration, the awareness emitted a silent, ethereal scream of protest.

Many miles away, in Middleton Colorado, the peacefully sleeping Ultimate Monkey Master suddenly sprang awake in a cold, fearful sweat.

* * *

_A/N_

_Hello again, everyone. I thank everybody who has taken the time to join me on this little journey that my imagination hauled me of upon some weeks ago. I am thankful, and humbled, by the positive response I have gotten. Thank you to everybody who has taken the time to post reviews or email me with suggestions and ideas. _

_As always, a big thanks to Joe Stoppinghem for his invaluable Beta Reading and helpful suggestions._

_Best wishes_

_daccu65_


	13. What Goes Around, Come Around

Chapter 13: What Goes Around, Comes Around

"I'm telling you, KP, Amy's up to something involving monkeys," Ron and Kim had just finished their morning sparring session. He had spent all day Sunday getting a grip on what he had experienced, only being willing to talk to Kim today.

"I believe you," Kim assured him. "It's not a matter of belief, it's a matter of figuring out what we can do about it, without revealing Yamanouchi or the MMP." Ron was forced to concede her point.

"Tell me, again, what happened," she requested.

"Okay, it's kind of hard to describe," Ron began. "I got sort of a glimpse into his mind, but monkeys don't think the same way that we do, so it isn't easy to make sense out of what happened."

"You've spent the better part of a day working it out in your mind," Kim prompted. "What have you come up with?"

"Well, I think that it's taking place either in South America or Central America, since it was a spider monkey that cried out. I didn't learn much about him, just his current sitch. He was a wild monkey that had been caught in a net trap. He was put in a cage and taken somewhere by truck. I didn't get any sense of travel by either plane or ship, so he wasn't taken overseas. Anyway, the last face he saw before some drugs took effect was Amy's. Sometime after he went out, something sort of altered his…essential monkeyness."

"Monkeyness?"

"KP, I don't have a word for it and I've never gotten better than a gentleman's C in Grammer."

"Okay Ron, I was just trying to joke a little bit, you know, keep you grounded this time," Kim frowned. "The question is, what does it all mean."

"To be honest, Amy doesn't concern me that much," Ron answered. "I mean, I want to stop whatever she's doing, but I don't know if what she's doing is 'take over the world' evil or something else. The real reason I want to track her down is Monty."

"Right," Kim agreed. "Like we said before, if we find Amy, we find Monty. Now, we've got to give Wade something more than 'somewhere in Central or South America.' That's an awful lot of area to search." She frowned. "Are you still in contact with this monkey?"

"No," Ron answered. "I only got that one burst, but that burst sort of dumped a lot of his memories into my brain. It hasn't been easy making sense of them, but I think that I've worked some more details out. First of all, he had to be from a spider monkey's native range, since I got a memory of fights with other bands of them."

"That's something," Kim conceded. "But how long was he on the truck? Ground transport could have taken him all the way to Argentina, the US, or even Canada."

"Monkeys don't have the same concept of time that we do," Ron informed her. "Since he was in an enclosed truck, he couldn't count the days…Wait a minute! He had no memory of being fed during the trip, and he wasn't terribly hungry when he was removed from the truck! That means he was on the truck for less than a day!"

"Nice going Ron, I'm going to have to start calling you Sherlock Stoppable," Kim mused. "I'll tell Wade that we received an anonymous tip and that we can't reveal any more. He respects privacy." She thought a moment, "Oh! You don't think that it's the same monkey that lived in your tree house, do you?"

"No, that monkey's female while this latest one is a male. I can kind of get a feel for what she's experiencing, if I really concentrate on it. It's hard to explain, but I've asked her to keep an eye out for him, in case he escapes."

"So you can communicate with monkeys from far away? Just like your sensei?"

"Well, I can sort of…share emotions with her. I think it's because I dealt with her before and because I helped her escape back to the wild. I can't just reach out and share emotions with a random monkey."

"How's she doing, or can you tell?"

"I don't really know, but I got the impression of her being content and being part of a group of monkeys. I couldn't tell anything more than that."

"I notice that you don't refer to them by name," Kim observed. "Why not?"

"Monkeys don't really use names," he answered. "It's complicated, but they use vocalizations and gestures to indicate rank in the band. Their position in the band is more important to them than personal identity. The female has taken a name, since she spent time with Fisk."

"Oh, what does she call herself?" Kim was surprised to find herself curious.

"AWIEEOUAIEEEE!" Ron screamed, startling Kim. He suddenly jumped backwards, pirouetting in midair and landing in a fighting crouch. Once on the ground, he rotated slowly, while pivoting his head.

"What is it?" Kim demanded, dropping into a fighting stance herself.

"Her name," Ron replied, standing up straight. "That shriek should have been a little higher, and I don't have a tail so I had to mimic some of the gestures by wiggling my butt."

"RON, if you ever scare me like that again, without a VERY good reason, I'm kicking your biscuit!" Kim's adrenaline level was still very high.

"Sorry, KP," he replied with a grin. "But you **did** ask."

"Eeeergh," she half snarled, half sighed. "Were you just playing me?"

"A little," he admitted. He reached over and started to massage her tense shoulders. She resisted, a little at first, then submitted to the relaxing caresses. "It's just been so serious that I wanted a little joke."

"You got me with it," she admitted. "Anyway, the workshop starts today, so I'd better head for the gym. Hey! I have an idea! Since I have a key to the gym, want to start doing our sparring there in the mornings? We're supposed to be having thunderstorms for the rest of the week, so your backyard is kind of out."

"Sounds good, I have some lawns to take care of this morning, then some dessert making to do this afternoon. Get together this evening? I'll bring some work home with me."

"You better believe it." She hesitated just a moment before asking him, "Ron, was that…brain flash thing you got from the monkey really that disorienting?

"It had me confused," Ron admitted. "Why do you ask?"

"Yesterday was the first time since the make-up prom that you spent the entire day away from me." She paused, "You called me in the morning, so I came by to check on you that afternoon and you were with Felix. I don't mind that you hang out with him and if you want some 'friends' time with just him, that's fine too. It just hurts me that you were going through some difficulties and didn't want me around."

"I…uh…wasn't exactly disoriented," Ron stated, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Oh, just what was going on?"

"Well, monkeys don't have coherent memories as much as they remember emotions."

"Okay, what does that have to do with it?" Some confusion was starting to overcome Kim's hurt feelings.

"Well," Ron was looking even more uncomfortable. "The other thing you have to know is how spider monkeys live. They form small bands and develop their own status system within that band, kind of like the high school food chain."

"Ron, it's getting time for you to make your point."

"Right, this monkey was the dominant male in his band, and the dominant male and dominant female have certain…privileges within the band." He looked at Kim, who was starting to blush. "The monkey was exercising that…privilege when he was caught. It might explain **why** he was caught, but it was also his last…emotional memory before being captured and it was very strong."

"I think I see where this is going," Kim couldn't bring herself to look directly in his eyes. "I take it that the memory sort of…imprinted on you and you were feeling…amorous?"

"Calling me amorous yesterday morning would be like saying I was a little jittery when Monty came after me with that sword. Trust me, if you were to add the …effect you tend to have on me with that…imprinting, I wouldn't have been very good company for you yesterday."

"I'll take your word for it," Kim assured him, blushing furiously. "So, you called Felix…"

"A couple hours of Zombie Mayhem, followed by a cold shower took care of it. Well, most of it. Anyway, I've got it under control now. I'm sorry if you're upset, but you wouldn't have wanted to be anywhere near me yesterday."

"You never know," Kim replied, with an impish expression. She ducked in for a quick kiss and scampered off.

"I'll see you this afternoon," she called over her shoulder, leaving a thoroughly perplexed Ron Stoppable in her wake.

* * *

"_The Internet is a wonderful thing,"_ Lord Montgomery Fisk decided. "_As well as search engines and America's obsession with celebrities."_

The nobleman came close to chiding himself for that last thought. After all, the citizens in his own homeland had as much of a fascination with the rich and famous as did the residents of this land. But, since kibitzing about the locals was one of the few luxuries left to him, he chose to indulge in it.

Ever since Amy had released him from his confinement, he had remained at her safe house in rural Wyoming. Amy wasn't present; she was working for some wealthy client at a secret location. Her absence wasn't a hardship for him; she had become rather aggressively fond of him and he found her affection to be…smothering. Still, he was profoundly grateful to her for rescuing him and providing him with secure accommodations. Here, far from the nearest neighbor, he could practice his Tai Sheng Pek Kwar on the extensive acreage, with no fear of being observed.

The home was far from luxurious but Fisk had endured much greater hardships during his archaeological career. He was honestly impressed with the level of technological capability she had hidden in this remote ranch. Although he didn't have a current use for the generator in the barn, or the laboratory in the basement, he could appreciate the effort needed to hide these items on the property. The home itself was small, but it was well built, had working utilities and, most importantly, had satellite communications with broadband Internet access. With this access, Fisk was able to study his adversary, which explained his gratitude towards the Internet and America's celebrity fetish.

After the various law-enforcement agencies had declassified the footage of Team Possible's struggle on Bueno Nacho's roof, numerous websites had started following the two teens. This was nothing unusual for Miss Possible, but Mr. Stoppable now had a surprisingly large fan base. As such, Fisk was able to gather some usable information, discretely.

First, the two teens, as well as Yamanouchi School officials, had reported that Team Possible had completed a month long cultural exchange program. Fisk snorted at that; he had a pretty good idea about the content of the 'instruction' the two teens received. This was important news, telling him that Stoppable and Possible would now be even more formidable. A few websites refused to believe the cultural exchange story and had developed an intense fascination with the teens' left hands and Possible's abdomen.

Secondly, he learned that the two were now 'dating exclusively.' This was news to Fisk, although he didn't find it surprising. While he had never experienced a romantic attraction, he supposed that his two tormentors would eventually explore such a relationship. He pondered if he could make use of this development and decided that he could not do so and maintain his honor. There was a fine line between 'giving' Possible to Lipsky and attacking her too injure Stoppable; but that line was the difference between honor and disgrace. Still, he would monitor the status of their relationship. If the new aspect of their relationship were to fail, Stoppable would probably be emotionally vulnerable.

Third, he learned that Stoppable had obtained Edward Lipsky's motorcycle. Again, he didn't see an immediate use for this information. While Lipsky would probably be willing to move against Stoppable in order to regain his vehicle, the man was in prison and Fisk didn't consider him worth the effort of rescuing. Still, any piece of information was potentially useful.

Fisk considered his options and concluded that his best course of action was to continue to train and monitor Stoppable. He also needed to remain hidden. He sighed about this; he missed Bates and his educated, monkey ninjas. Yet, he remained a realist. Since his escape, Bates was undoubtedly being watched and various agencies were probably monitoring the primate trade. With another sigh, he resigned himself to a rather lonely, near future and decided to check up on the villain community.

He noticed that Team Possible had recently captured Dementor. While Fisk didn't see an immediate use for the undersized scientist, anyone with a grudge against Team Possible was a potential ally. Drakken had been moved to Holland, so another potential ally was effectively beyond Fisk's reach. Shego was being held in an ultra-secure prison, awaiting trial. Fisk had a great deal of respect for the green-hued woman but was not about to attempt to rescue her from her current prison. Killigan, The Mathter, Aviarius, and Adrena Lynn were all unaccounted for at this time.

With a final sigh, Fisk left the computer and went outside to perform some katas. His opportunity would eventually present itself, and he would do well to prepare himself for that time.

* * *

"Well, General, this is certainly a surprise." Dr. Drakken remarked to his rather familiar visitor. "I doubt that you just happened to be in the neighborhood and dropped in to see me. So, what brings you to this side of the pond?"

"Tell me, Lipsky, how well do you know a would be tyrant named Professor Dementor?" The General leaned back and waited for a response.

"Well, I've heard of him, of course, but why are you interested?"

"Just humor me, Lipsky, after all, talking to me is a break in your monotony."

"True enough," Drakken favored the man with an insolent smile. "Dementor is a pretender. He's tried to upstage me as a world conqueror for years now. He hasn't even come close! The only thing he's ever managed to do was steal the pan dimensional vortex inducer, and he didn't even have a good plan to utilize. While I've won the 'Most Likely to Inflict Immeasurable Misery on the World' award, at the Villain's Convention, four years running. Did you know that when you win that award you get free airfare the following year?"

"Nice piece of information, Lipsky, but you didn't really answer my question," the General persisted. "How well do you know him? Have you had any interactions with him in the past?"

Drakken's smile grew even more insolent. "Well, since you have no real authority here in Holland, I may as well talk. We've traded both equipment and data on occasion. He's actually a trustworthy sort, as far as villains go. He's really quite capable but he's more obsessed with alternate realities that dominating the world; otherwise he would be a much greater competitor in my profession."

"So, the two of you might have a better idea than most about where the other's hidden assets may be located?"

"Now, now, General. This is true but I'm not about to rat the poor, little man out. He has enough problems and it wasn't part of our deal."

"True enough," the General admitted, with an unreadable expression. "On a different topic, do you know anything about an abandoned silver mine in Montana, up near the international border?"

"Why should I?" Drakken's expression was very smug.

"Dementor had moved into it, and was making use of a fairly well equipped lab inside of it," the General informed the prisoner. "You see, the lab had the type of equipment that you tend to collect and the mines ownership is a confusing jumble of front companies and property management firms. It's so convoluted that it may take us months to sort it out and find out who really owns the mine."

"Is that so, General? Well, my mind has been slipping as of late, you know, preoccupied with trying to take over the world? You can hardly expect me to recall every piece of property upon which I stored equipment. Even if I own that mine, and I'm not saying that I do, what good will it do you? Even if you feel betrayed and the US courts choose to sentence me to death, I'm serving a life sentence here in Holland, where there is no death penalty."

"Yeah, Lipsky, I guess you got me," the General looked up at the prisoner, whose expression was so smug that it was downright insolent. "By the way," the military man continued. "Your lawyer had wanted you moved to Mexico, why did you insist on a European prison?"

"The treatment of course! European prisons are safer, more comfortable and the food is much better." Drakken's smile had grown even wider.

"Yeah, Dutch extradition treaties are more liberal, as well." Now the General's face showed the beginnings of a smile.

"Meh?"

"You see, Lipsky, Mexico will never extradite a prisoner if he could face the death penalty where they send him. Holland works a little bit differently. Let's just say, hypothetically of course, that we somehow trace that mine's ownership to you. Now let's assume that several US Federal Prosecutors get ticked off about you holding out on your deal and manage to get you sentenced to death, in absentia. Now, let's say that that convoluted mass of front companies and management firms wind up facing conspiracy charges. At least **one** of them might want to call you to the witness stand."

"In such an obviously hypothetical situation, Mexico would never allow your extradition," the General informed Drakken. "But Holland works a little bit differently. They have no problem with extraditing one of their prisoners, so that said prisoner can take the witness stand. Then, they really don't have a problem with that prisoner facing punishment for any crimes committed in that other nation, just so long as he's returned to Holland to finish his sentence."

"So you see, Lipsky," now the General was looking very smug, while Drakken had broken out in a sweat. "If these hypothetical situations were to come true, the US could still put you in the chair or stick you with a needle. As long as the US returns your ashes to Holland, the Dutch will be satisfied." Now the General got to his feet. "You should have listened to your lawyer. Tell you what, I'll do you a favor and call him for you. I think you need to have a talk with him."

With that, the General walked out of the visiting room and guards showed up to return Drakken to his cell.

"_I'm running out of time,"_ he thought. "_What's taking Shego so long?"_

* * *

Shego walked down the corridor, her two guards a respectful distance behind her. It was time for her half-hour outside recreation and exercise time. "_Outside_," she thought_. "More like a moderately large cavern_." She didn't know how far underground she was being held, but she hadn't seen the sun for weeks. She idly wondered how Drew was faring after taking so much of the blame upon himself. She knew the drill; Drew claims responsibility, she gets a lighter sentence, she tracks him down and breaks him out. She just wished that things would move faster so that she could get on with it. Her body was essentially on autopilot as she reached the security door and waited for it to open.

She nearly jumped out of her skin at a sudden flash of light, followed immediately by a loud, arcing pop. Carefully honed reaction kicked in; she spun around, putting her back to the door, dropped into a fighting crouch and looked around for the disturbance's source. She had just noted that two security cameras were emitting smoke when one of the guards' distracted her.

"Prisoner, halt!" The voice sounded male, but Shego couldn't see through the helmet's darkened visor to confirm this. She was more interested in the two barrels lined up on her.

"HALT!" The voice sounded different, and Shego didn't know what was going on. She hadn't moved a muscle after spinning around.

"Stop or I'll shoot!" It was the first voice again, and a note of panic had crept into it. Shego stifled her first response, which was to make a caustic remark. She wasn't moving, where the guards drunk or someth-. Realization came to her too late. Of course, it probably wouldn't have made any difference if she had been expecting what was happening.

Both guards fired a controlled burst; one caught her low on the abdomen while the other hit her right shoulder. The impacts knocked her back against the door. There was no pain, just a feeling of weakness. She tried to remain standing to meet her end with a little defiance, but she inevitably slumped to the floor. She couldn't help but grin a little bit in admiration of what the guards had just pulled off.

It was so clear to her; they had rigged some sort of voltage spike for the camera system and would probably claim that one of her plasma discharges caused the problem. Their conversations were all probably recorded, so they sounded like a couple of scared guards facing an attack. Prison officials would investigate the event and find all evidence pointing towards a justified shooting.

Shego was now seated on the floor, leaning back against the door. Her vision was narrowing but she could see one of the guards hand the other his weapon, then press a button on his belt. The disarmed guard stepped forward, pulling a small device, like a pill from a pouch. He placed this device on one of her ceramic mittens, then stepped back. A moment later, the device flared into brilliant light, burning through her confining mitten and injuring the hand inside it. Shego didn't even have enough energy left to snort at that thought. A hand injury was the least of her worries. Of course, she really didn't have **any** worries anymore.

The disarmed guard stepped forward again, ripped her tunic off and applied pressure bandages to her bullet wounds. Again, Shego found herself admiring the planning they had performed. The cover story was almost perfect: They would claim that she somehow melted one of her mittens and that the EMP from this effort had taken out the cameras. They, of course, ordered her to stop. She didn't, so they shot her. The swarm of guards and support staff, undoubtedly converging on her location right now, would find the two guards dutifully administering first aid, attempting to save her life after shooting her in self defense.

With her vision starting to dim and narrow, Shego accepted that she was about to die. She wasn't angry about it; rather she was surprised that her end came at the hands of military guards with a righteous vendetta against her. She had always thought that she would die at the hands of a hero, a rival super-villain, or an exploding, take-over-the-world device. Instead, two guards, ordinary humans, had fired six bullets.

As her vision darkened further, she wondered if anyone would truly miss her. Sure, Drakken probably would, but he had been a techno-villain before he met her and would probably try to go about being one again. Ed would probably drink a beer in her memory, then pinch the barmaid's butt. Her brothers would probably put together a memorial service for the 'fallen heroine,' then go back to protecting their beloved Go City. Princess and the Dork would probably attend that service, then go back to beating up on Dementor and helping old ladies cross the street.

She sighed out one last breath. Somehow, despite everything she could do and everything she had done, she hadn't managed to make any sort of lasting mark on the world. She felt an intense melancholy as her vision faded to black

* * *

_A/N: Before anything else, I must offer an apology. After my last update, I managed to hit a wrong button on my email page and refuse messages from the FanFiction site. As a result, after the first couple of reviews, I didn't get additional review alerts in my email. While I have gone back, looked over the reviews, and sent a PM thank you to the other reviewers, I apologize to anybody I may have missed. I really appreciate and look forward to the reviews and private messages I receive._

_Again, my fondest thanks go to Joe Stoppinghem for his beta reading services and his suggestions. _

_Until my next update,_

_Best Wishes_

_daccu65_


	14. The interview

Chapter 14: The Interview

Kim threw a roundhouse kick, immediately followed by a left-right punch combination. Ron used an augmented block to defend against the kick then retreated. He shifted his head to the right, dodging Kim's first punch and managed to deflect her second punch with an up block. He immediately responded with a snap-kick at Kim's stomach. She danced backwards, out of his range. Ron stepped forward onto his kicking foot and followed up with a low-left and high-right punch combination. Kim continued dancing backwards and Ron finished his barrage with a side-kick scoring a glancing blow to Kim's thigh. Kim didn't give him a respite, but lunged forward with a side fist before Ron could bring his kicking leg back down. Ron blocked the blow, only to have Kim drop and spin, extending her ankle and sweeping his supporting foot out from under him. Ron managed to fall correctly; flat on his back while slapping his palms on the ground, but by the time he brought his hands back up to defend himself, Kim completed her spin and tapped him on the nose with her fist. Ron conceded the point. Had Kim delivered the last blow, he would have been dazed and helpless at best.

Kim hopped to her feet and walked to a blackboard on the gym wall, shaking out the leg Ron had kicked. She picked up a piece of chalk and put another mark under her name while Ron pulled himself to his feet and limbered his own limbs. There were eight marks under Kim's name and none under Ron's. While he continued to improve, Kim was still the main force behind Team Possible. Still, 'that hard way' was the best way to improve.

It had been a week since an ethereal scream had woken Ron and he hadn't had a repeat of the incident. Wade had given Kim a strange look when she had told him their story, but he had immediately started some monitoring programs to track primate sales in Central and South America. So far, he hadn't managed to unearth anything. Kim and Ron were left with no course of action other than to remain prepared for eventual action. Thus, Ron braced himself as Kim returned, and the two closed in on each other again. They didn't realize that they were being watched.

"Just how good are they?" Tara asked Bonnie. The two girls had decided to show up earlier that usual, to see what Kim and Ron were doing in the gym before the workshop. Bonnie had been hoping to see some sort of…incriminating activity and have Tara be a second witness. Neither girl had expected to see anything like this.

"I really don't know," Bonnie admitted. Standing in the unlit lobby, she was sure that Kim and Ron couldn't see her and Tara. "I'm no expert on fighting but I know choreography and so do you."

"Yeah," Tara agreed. "Those moves aren't choreographed. They're going at each other for real." She flinched at the smacking sound of flesh on flesh, as Kim and Ron exchanged a furious series of strikes and blocks. "When those two got together, I didn't think their dating activity would include beating each other to a pulp."

"Well, Stoppable's motto is 'never be normal,'" Bonnie snorted, "And K's always been a little weird, herself. Besides, you should have seen how those two, as well as Cindy and the budget import were acting up at Lake Middleton last week."

"Oh?" Tara prompted. Both girls fell silent at the spectacle in front of them. Kim threw a high kick, which Ron avoided by crouching under it, then sweeping her other ankle. Kim went down but managed a backward summersault, avoiding Ron's foot-stomp. Ron lunged forward again but Kim got one leg in between them and sent Ron sailing over her head. She sprang to her feet as Ron executed a graceful, forward summersault and regained his own feet. The two closed in on each other again.

"They were acting like kids," Bonnie regained her voice and resumed the conversation. "They were camel-fighting like a bunch of well…thirteen or fourteen year olds. Then when they got done, Stoppable and the import hijacked Brick and played beach football." The tall brunette crossed her arms and fumed at the memory.

"That sounds like fun to me," Tara admitted. "I wonder if Josh would like to do that sometime?"

"Tara, that's like…kid stuff?" Bonnie protested.

"So?" Tara asked. "We're teenagers, that means we're halfway between being kids and being adults, so we can act like either one."

"Fine, you want to act like a kid, don't come complaining to me when nobody at school takes you seriously," Bonnie sighed.

"Okay, maybe the camel-fighting was a little immature," Tara conceded. "But what was wrong about the beach football? Brick's playing at Go-City University this Fall, and Ron and Oscar are playing here this Fall. I don't see the problem with football players playing football."

"It was supposed to be my day with Brick!" Bonnie snarled, shaking her head at how dense Tara must be to not appreciate the situation. "I mean, if C and K can't keep their boyfriends' attention, they could at least keep them away from mine."

She lapsed into silence again. Ron had managed to get in close to Kim and threw two elbows at her, while circling her. Blocking the elbows distracted Kim slightly, allowing Ron to actually start circling behind her. Kim immediately threw a spinning back fist. Instead of retreating, ducking, or blocking, Ron rushed her. He drove a shoulder into her back while reaching low and catching her knees. Kim was forced face down onto the floor with Ron on top of her. The blonde boy surged up her body, wrapping his legs around her waist and trapping one of her arms. He quickly underhooked her free arm, in a hold similar to a half-nelson, and wrapped his other arm around her neck. Kim, feeling the pressure on the side of her neck, tapped Ron's thigh, conceding the point.

"Carotid Artery choke," a deep, quiet voice announced from behind Tara and Bonnie, making the two girls jump. "Possible would have been incapacitated in a matter of seconds." Bonnie and Tara spun to face…

"Mr. Barkin!" Bonnie exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

"In case you've forgotten, Miss Rockwaller," the big, do-just-about-anything teacher/Vice Principal answered. "I **am**the faculty adviser for the cheerleading workshop so it's my responsibility to see that the school's facilities are being used in an approved manner. Some local residents informed me that Possible and Stoppable were showing up here hours before the workshop. I came to assure myself that they weren't doing anything…inappropriate."

"Just for my education," Bonnie knew which phrases to use around the big man. "Is what they're doing inappropriate?"

"This gymnasium is intended to shelter students while they conduct educational and/or athletic activities," he informed the two cheerleaders. "That activity seems to be both, so I'll let it pass."

"In other words, you wanted to make sure that they weren't engaging in PDAs," Tara suggested.

"Correct, Miss King," Barkin replied. "You three are role models to impressionable, Middle-School girls. I shudder to think of the fallout if such girls were to arrive early and observe some form of…carnal behavior taking place between two, teenaged celebrities."

"So it's fine for K to beat the living daylights out of Stoppable," Bonnie reasoned with a questioning look on her face. "But it's not okay to kiss him?"

"I do not make the rules, Miss Rockwaller. I simply enforce them. Besides," a rare grin made a showing on his face. "I can't really see Stoppable making any sort of a romantic move on Possible after taking that kind of a beating."

"Kim's loss, I guess," Tara mused. Both Barkin and Bonnie stared at her, wide eyed, while the blonde girl put a hand over her mouth, wondering how she had let that thought pop out. Kim and Ron, who had noticed their audience, spared her further embarrassment.

"Hey, Mr. B.," Ron greeted his educational nemesis. "What can we do for you this bon-digity morning?"

"Stoppable," the big man acknowledged him. "You are aware, of course, that this gymnasium has been reserved for these three young ladies to teach cheerleading skills to young girls?"

"Yes sir, Mr. B. I'll be out of here before the first such attendee shows up."

"Not good enough, Stoppable. You're here without proper authorization. Now that I am aware of yours and Miss Possible's activities, I will allow you to continue. However, you must face the consequences of suborning my authority."

"Mr. B., school isn't in session!" Ron protested.

"Inconsequential, Stoppable," Barkin informed him. "This is a school facility and Miss Possible has access to this facility as part of a school-sponsored event. Therefore this is a school function and my authority remains absolute." Ron dropped his head. Kim looked like she was ready to leap to her boyfriend's defense, but decided that she could only make things worse.

"Your punishment, Stoppable will be to undergo at least three intense workouts, like I've seen today, each week for the remainder of the workshop," Barkin informed the teen.

"Uh, Mr. Barkin?" Ron stammered. "I'm already putting in six each wee…"

"NO QUESTIONS, MISTER," The big man roared. "DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"

"Yes sir," Ron fought to keep the smile off of his face. He noticed Kim smirking, as well.

"I'll be expecting supreme effort from you on the football field, do you understand me?" Barkin continued his grilling.

"Absolutely sir!"

"Now that you know my expectations," Barkin's tone became much more congenial. "Let's deal with another issue. Various press correspondents have been trailing the two of you. While your technical man's release backed them off a little bit, they want something more substantial from the two of you. While it would ordinarily be outside my area of concern, these reporters are starting to follow you to school grounds and this could become disruptive to school functions. I need you to take decisive action and eliminate this threat."

"We have a live interview on 'Hello Middleton' this afternoon," Kim told him.

"Oh? Why not something at a more national level?" Barkin asked.

"We prefer to deal with the local press," Kim informed him. "For one thing, they're easier to get along with. For another thing, they're better at staying on the subject, during interviews."

"Clarify that last statement," Barkin requested.

"Well sir," Ron stepped in. "When the local stations want to interview Kim-"

"US," Kim corrected him.

"Okay, us." Ron conceded. "Before the interview, they'll usually tell K-, er us, what they want to talk about. Like the radio station that interviewed us when we helped evacuate people from the wild fire last month. They might ask a few off-topic questions, but they don't go into any great depth if we don't feel like talking."

"Those national level interviews can be different," Kim continued. "They dig into a lot of things that aren't anybody's business, and really don't mean that much. They obsess on my appearance, my fashion choices, the fact that I don't go to the," here she added air quotes. "Hot, happening party spots. Of course, that isn't the worst."

"What's the worst?" Tara asked.

"Their questions about the two of us," Ron answered his fellow blonde. "When we tell the local stations that we're dating exclusively, they're satisfied. These national outfits, they seem to be infatuated with the…er…progress, that we've made with our dating."

"They want to know if the two of you…" Bonnie faded into silence.

"Exactly," Kim confirmed. "Now, I understand that it's human nature to be curious; how many times has the entire squad mugged one of us with a 'tell us everything' barrage after she's had a date? When we tell one of the local stations that it's a private matter between the two of us, they usually let the matter drop. On the other hand, the national shows start prying or, what's worse, they start speculating."

Barkin, Tara, and Bonnie all nodded. They had all read Internet, celebrity scandal reports about Kim's and Ron's status. At one end of the spectrum, some sites reported that Kim was dating Ron as a false front, so the public wouldn't realize that she was a lesbian. At the other end of the spectrum, some sites reported that the two were actually married and had a child, who was being raised at an unspecified location. Of course, innumerable articles reported their relationship at just about any point between the two extremes.

"If you don't mind saying," Tara asked, quietly. "How do you answer when an interviewer asks about your status?"

"We tell the truth," Ron answered. "We're dating exclusively and it's a G-rated relationship."

"Maybe PG for violence and dangerous situations," Kim chimed in. "We really can't separate our dating life from our mission life."

"So when is your interview?" Barkin asked.

"Two hours after the workshop's finished," Kim answered. "That gives us a chance to get to the studio and let them make us look good for the camera."

"We can't be all bruised up," Ron added. "That's why we were going so easy on each other."

"Easy?!" Both Bonnie and Tara said in unison. Barkin merely grinned, imagining the stiff-arms Stoppable would be able to throw on the football field.

* * *

"Miss Possible, Mr. Stoppable," the whisper came from outside their dressing suite door. "May I come in? I'm Warren, a roving cameraman. The station's president asked me to speak to you."

"Come on in," Kim called back, sharing a slightly confused glance with Ron. The teens had arrived at the Middleton Channel 6 Studio a little over a half-hour ago. An intern had ushered them into a dressing suite, where a makeup specialist had gone to work on them. Ron had balked at being 'made up' but the specialist informed him that it wasn't about looking good, it was about keeping his pale complexion from glowing under the stage lighting. The specialist had left a few minutes ago, leaving the teens to relax in preparation for their interview. Kim had been expecting their interviewer, Maddy Smolenz, to come visit them, not a roving cameraman.

"Hey," Ron exclaimed when Warren walked in. "Aren't you they guy who caught that footage of us on the roof?"

"That's me," Warren whispered. He looked up and down the hallway before closing the door behind him. "Please keep your voices down. I'm here to warn you, you're walking into a journalistic ambush."

"A what?" Ron scratched his head.

"Mrs. Smolenz isn't going to be interviewing you," he told them. "Rita Richards is going to be doing the honors."

"Rita Richards!" Kim hissed in an exasperated whisper. "I thought she was stationed at some network's head office in Los Angeles."

"She is," Warren replied. "But she pulled some strings at the network. She's got some dirt on the Head of Affiliates. She got him to threaten this station's president. If he doesn't let her come in and do a surprise, hostile interview, this station will lose its affiliation."

"I'm not big on network TV," Ron chimed in. "What's the big deal with this Rita Richards?"

"Let's just say that she's a racist," Warren informed him.

"Oh, which race does she hate?" asked Ron.

"Human."

"Oh," Ron nodded with a pained smile. "One of those."

"Exactly," Warren agreed. "She's the journalistic equivalent of a starving, rabid Rottweiler. She made her name by verbally shredding those she interviews. You two probably understand that you're prime targets." Kim and Ron both nodded.

"Well," he continued. "If she can get to the two of you; if she can make either of you loose your temper, break down and cry, or admit something you shouldn't, she'll be a hot commodity. Plenty of scandal shows will be willing to pay big money for the reporter who crushed Team Possible."

"Thanks for the warning," Kim told him. "But why are you warning us?"

"Because neither my boss, nor I, appreciate being used like this. This was supposed to be a friendly, local interview. We would have sold the footage to the network for later, nation-wide transmission. You two would have been happy, we would have been happy, and the network would have been happy. Instead, all of this good mojo is getting tossed aside for one woman's egotistical quest for recognition."

Warren took a deep breath, "I'm sorry about the rant, but this is something that really burns my butt. I know that investigative reporters have gotten a bad rap lately. Not all of us are paparazzi. A lot of us just want to report interesting and/or vital news, even if we have to step on a few toes to break a story. With reporters like Richards, stepping on the toes **is** the story. I'm really sorry that this happened to you, at our station."

"Thanks again for the warning," Ron told the man.

"Yeah," Kim agreed. "You turned a drama into a no big."

With that, the man offered the teens a printed list of issues that he thought Richards would bring up. Then he peeked out of the door and seeing that the coast was clear, slipped away. Kim and Ron only had a few minutes to review the list before they were interrupted again.

Beep Beep Be-Beep.

"So what's the sitch?"

"Kim! Sit down, I have some shocking news!"

"If it's about the hatchet job we're running into here, we've already been warned."

"I don't know anything about a hatchet job," Wade told her. "But I do know that Shego's been shot while trying to escape!"

"What, when?" Kim and Ron both sat down and gawked into the Kimmunicator screen.

"I don't have all of the details, but it happened about a week ago," Wade informed them. "She's been in intensive care ever since. As of ten minutes ago, she was in 'serious but stable' condition. Someone at the prison leaked the story, so GJ decided to make a press release before rumors got too much out of control. They'll be making the statement about the same time you're doing your interview." Wade paused a moment, "now what's this about a hatchet job?" Kim and Ron quickly filled them in.

"Okay, we can't do anything about Shego, so let's deal with your interview," Wade suggested, accompanying his words with a flurry of keyboard activity. "I'm running a check on Richards, specifically quotes about you guys….okay, I've got some info for you."

"Just how thankful are you that he's on our side?" Ron asked Kim.

"Very," Kim smiled at her BFBF. "What do you have, Wade?"

"First of all, Richards is one the reporters who's claiming that you and Shego are…well…"

"I get the picture," Kim growled. "What else?"

"She has been really vocal that you being with Ron is either a rebound thing or denial," Wade answered, glad to have changed the topic. "She's also supposed to have an extensive network of contacts and informants. If she doesn't know about Shego already, I bet she'll know within a few minutes. Sorry guys, but it'll take me several minutes to dig up anything else."

"And we'll be on the set by then," Kim finished. "You rock, Wade!"

With that, Kim and Ron made the best plans that they could.

* * *

"Ah, Kim Possible, a pleasure to meet you," Rita Richards greeted the heroine, as Kim and Ron stepped on the set. Her 'professional smile' looked cold and menacing. "I'm Rita Richards, perhaps you've seen me on Sunset Report."

"I can't say that I've seen the show," Kim admitted. "But I recognize the name."

"Wasn't Mrs. Smolenz supposed to be interviewing us today?" Ron asked, playing the part that he and Kim and discussed earlier.

"And you would be?" Richards' tone was decidedly superior.

"He's Ron Stoppable, my partner and boyfriend," Kim explained, with a tone of exaggerated patience. "WE are scheduled for this interview and he's asking a very valid question."

"Oh, of course," the interviewer's smile never altered. "I'm sorry, but Mrs. Smolenz had a family emergency. Fortunately, I was in the area, so you'll have a nationally recognized reporter conducting the interview. By the way, I'll only be interviewing Kim today so if you'll be so kind as to leave the set, Ron we can.."

"Ms. Richards, or do you prefer Rita?" Kim asked the woman, interrupting her instructions.

"Rita, if you please."

"I don't know if anybody from the station managed to brief you before you volunteered to stand in for Mrs. Smolenz," Kim informed the older woman. "But the scheduled interview was with TEAM Possible, not KIM Possible. I'm afraid that if Ron leaves the set, I will as well."

"But Kim, may I call you Kim?" Kim nodded. "I volunteered to conduct this interview at the last possible minute. I'm afraid that I barely had time to prepare to interview you. I didn't have any time to prepare for your…subordinate." The reporter's face never changed expression during the explanation."

"Nevertheless, if Ron leaves, so do I," Kim matched the woman's stare.

"Very well," the reporter conceded. "Er, Ron, may I call you Ron?" Ron nodded. "I assume that you won't get bored if I don't ask you too many questions?" Ron nodded again. "Very well, why don't we be seated?"

A stagehand appeared with a chair for Ron, an encouraging smile for the teens and a hidden glare for Rita Richards. The countdown started soon after everyone was seated.

"Okay everyone," a director called out. "We're live in five, four…" he held up three fingers, then two, then one, then gestured to Rita.

"Hello everybody and welcome to Hello Middleton. I'm Rita Richards, from the network's LA office, sitting in today for Mrs. Smolenz. I'm joined today by teen heroine Kim Possible and her companion, Ron Stoppable. Kim, how are you doing today?"

"Just fine, Rita and to clarify, Ron is my partner, not just my companion."

"Of course, and how are you today, Ron?"

"Very well, Rita, and yourself?"

"Thrilled to be here. Now, Kim, let's start with the question that's on everybody's mind. Are you and Ron in a relationship at this time?"

"Please define a relationship," Kim requested.

"Are the two of you connected, romantically?"

"We're dating, exclusively" Kim answered.

"Lovely," Rita's smile became predatory as she turned towards Ron. "Ron, I'd like to talk about events leading up to the Diablo Assault. Would you care to answer some questions?"

"You understand, of course, that I can't say anything that could affect the upcoming trials?" Ron asked in return.

"Of course, Ron! I won't deal with the legalities, okay."

"Sure."

"First of all, is it true that Dr. Drakken constructed a synthodrone for the express purpose of seducing Kim?"

"I can't answer that, Rita, I won't speculate on Dr. Drakken's motivations."

"Well, then did Kim appear to be attracted to the synthodrone?" Rita's smile had become just a little less smug.

"Yes."

"That's all, just yes?" Rita prompted.

"What more do you want me to say?"

"Weren't you jealous?" The predatory smile was back.

"Why should I have been? We weren't dating at the time." Ron's expression was perfectly calm.

"Are you certain about this? You looked very angry during your fight on the roof at Bueno Nacho."

"I was fighting for my life, Rita," Ron informed her, his calm expression turning cold.

"Of course," Rita's tone dripped honey. She then looked at Kim, "Kim, I understand that there were two synthodrones, one male and one female. I'm sure you won't speculate about Drakken's motivation, but did Ron show any attraction towards the female synthodrone?"

"I believe that they went out on a 'let's do homework' date."

"So he was attracted to her."

"Yes, she was very pretty."

Rita seemed to wait for Kim to continue, but covered up her confusion by continuing the interview.

"So, the two of you are officially together now?" Both Kim and Ron nodded. "How do both of you feel," Rita continued, her false smile firmly in place. "Knowing that the other chose artificial life forms over you?"

"I did-" Kim began; only to bite her tongue when Ron gave her arm a discrete nudge. She understood; withstanding insults was one of those things where Ron was the better of the two.

"It doesn't bother me in the slightest," Ron told their tormentor. "Because I understand the concept of teen dating." He paused a moment, "you understand teen dating, don't you Rita? I mean, it's been awhile for you hasn't it?"

"Not that long," Rita grated out.

"So you understand. Kim and I are teenagers, we're supposed to be attracted to the hotties. We both fell, initially, for the hot bodies and cute faces. We got over it, learned from it and moved on."

"You found each other after things didn't work out with other people," Rita pressed on.

"I'd say we finally realized that we wanted more than friendship out of each other," Kim countered.

"That's lovely," Rita smiled, like she had sensed an opening. "So, since you've found each other, just how far has your relationship progressed?"

"I don't understand the question," Kim admitted.

"Have the two of you become intimate yet?"

"Number one, that's a private issue between Ron and myself," Kim grated at the older woman. "Number two, no, we are both only seventeen and have decided that we aren't ready for the adult responsibilities that would come with an adult relationship. While I answered this question, we won't answer any more questions regarding our…intimate status."

"I'd say the public has a right to know," Rita insisted.

"Rita, Ron and I realize that we are somewhat public figures," Kim responded. "However, we don't hold any official position of authority. That means that our actions don't have far reaching consequences. While we appreciate the support we receive from so many people, we prefer to keep our personal lives and beliefs private."

"But your actions do have far reaching consequences," Rita bore in. "You're a role model to millions of young people across this country. Now, you've established what appears to be a relationship with Ron here, but I and a number of my colleagues believe that your affections lie elsewhere."

"I am perfectly aware of your…speculations regarding Shego and myself," Kim's smile was as cold as Rita's was predatory. "This is one aspect of my private life that I am happy to divulge. I feel absolutely no romantic attraction to Shego."

"But the history the two of you have," Rita interjected.

"Rita, I understand that last year, an irritated interviewee attacked you on a set and hit you several times before a couple of stagehands subdued him, is this true?" Kim asked her tormentor.

"Yes, but this interview is about you, not me."

"Just making a point. Do you feel any romantic attraction to him?"

"No, but this is-"

"My point exactly," Kim concluded, interrupting the reporter. "Shego has tried to kill me on more than one occasion. I honestly don't know why anybody would think that I'm attracted to her because of this. You yourself weren't attracted to your assailant, so why do you think that I'd be attracted to mine?"

"Well, there are numerous posts on the Internet that claim to have seen the two of you engaged in romantic behavior," Rita pointed out.

"There's something interesting about those Internet posts," Kim continued, conversationally. "I had my technical support partner check on the number of such posts. As best as he can tell, roughly the same number of people claim to have seen bigfoot, or Elvis, than have claimed to have seen me engaged, romantically, with Shego." Kim shook her head, "No, Rita. I don't feel any attraction to Shego."

"Are you aware that she's been shot?" Rita asked next.

"Yes, our technical support man informed us shortly before today's interview."

"How do you feel about this?"

"It's never a good thing when someone is shot," Kim replied. Her and Ron had put their true attitudes towards the shooting into words, so Kim was ready for the question. "But the consequences could have been much worse. Shego is dangerous and doesn't have much in the way of moralistic restraint. While I don't want to see anybody injured, I would rather see her shot, than see her injure her guards and escape."

"Do you intend to visit her?"

"No, I don't even know where she's being treated and I have no intention of finding out. Shego has made her own decision and must face her own consequences."

Rita was clearly perplexed by Team Possible's calm manner. She turned from Kim back to Ron.

"Ron, your girlfriend here says that the two of you have decided to put off intimacy until you're ready for an adult relationship; when will that be?"

"I really don't know at this time," Ron admitted. "But the fact that we're both underage, unemployed, and don't even have our high school diplomas tells me that we aren't adults."

"It sounds to me like she's just keeping you around with vague promises," Rita said in a sympathetic voice. "Perhaps she's keeping you around until the next guy makes her heart flutter." Ron could feel Kim tense at that remark.

"Perhaps," Ron answered. "Or perhaps we're concerned with making this new aspect of our relationship work before we delve even deeper into it. We were close friends before we became girlfriend and boyfriend. I'd like to be a good boyfriend before I become anything more."

"So it doesn't bother you that the two of you haven't…" Rita prompted.

"Like Kim said, this really isn't any concern of yours, but no, it doesn't bother me."

"What about her previous, romantic relationships?" Rita prompted. "Was she intimate with any of them?"

"That, Rita, is none of my business," Ron informed her.

"To backtrack a bit," Rita clearly had to recover from Ron's blunt honesty. "You have both said that you aren't ready for an adult relationship and adult consequences." Both members of Team Possible nodded. "Yet, Ron, you yourself have made very adult decisions; decisions dealing with life and death. I'm speaking, of course, about your killing the two synthodrones."

"Both were acts of self defense," Ron's voice had become a great deal colder.

"Were they?" Rita asked, sensing an opening from Ron's cold tone. "There's no record of your confrontation with, what was her name, Dessie? But we've all seen the footage of your confrontation with Eric. You had already eliminated the Diablo Threat but you killed him. You're telling me that you aren't ready for an adult relationship, yet you made an adult decision about life and death and don't appear any worse for wear."

"No worse for wear," Ron's voice was so icy that even Kim was scared of him. "I guess you never interviewed the therapist who worked with me for weeks after that incident. I guess you never interviewed my parents, who never knew when I'd wake them up with my screaming in my sleep." Kim's eyes were wide; her boyfriend had never told her about screaming at night. She took his hand but didn't silence him, knowing that this just might back the reporter off of him.

"Eric, the synthodrone, told me he was going to kill me," Ron continued in that same cold tone. "Like you said, Kim and I had won, Eric could have fled with Drakken. Instead, he chose to fulfill his obligation to break up Team Possible, by killing me. So yes, Rita I fought back and I fully meant to kill him when I did."

"Do you know how to kill a synthodrone?" Ron asked, his voice frighteningly empty of emotions. Rita shook her head, speechless.

"You have to puncture its synthetic skin so that its fluids can leak out. Now, a synthodrone doesn't have a circulatory system, no arteries or veins like we have. Still, the fluid has to run through the body cavity so Drakken equipped them with pumps. Ingenious design, the pump works harder as the drone's need for fluid circulation increases. I could feel that pump working in both cases. I had tackled Dessie and I had bearhugged Eric. Do you know what it's like to feel that pump, working harder and harder as this thinking, living being screams for its life? Do you know what it's like when you feel that pump stop?"

Rita just sat in the chair, motionless. She had been hoping to grill the teens about their relationship, and provoke either steamy details or heated denials. Instead, she had gotten calm, factual statements. When she had found Ron's weakness, his sensitivity about killing the machines, she hadn't expected him to be so articulate. This was pure interview gold!

"An interesting thing about those fluids," Ron continued. "They're really similar, chemically, to human blood. While it's yellow, it smells and tastes just like the real thing. Heck, Wade told me that some corporation has just started to mass-produce the stuff, since it makes a very effective blood expander. Now, I'm sure that you're wondering how this fits in with your question, so let me tell you. In both cases, that fluid sprayed all over me. So I was fighting some poor thing that was screaming for its life, feeling this pump work harder and harder, all while this stuff that felt, smelled and tasted like blood sprayed all over me. Then the pump and the screaming stopped."

"No worse for wear," Ron mocked, shaking his head as tears flowed from his eyes. " I pray every day that I never become so callous that I can do something like that and not feel terrible afterwards."

"Uh, we need to take a commercial break," Rita announced, seeing the director waving at her. The cameras had no sooner gone dead than that same director stormed onto the stage.

"This interview is now over," he snapped at Rita.

"What do you mean, I've got them for the next-"

"That was **before** you asked two minors about their sex life on a live broadcast," he snarled at her. "Then brought up a violent, deadly encounter involving a minor. We'll be lucky if the FCC isn't in here before the end of this break. We're going to alternative programming, now."

"Do you know who you're dealing with?" Rita shrieked.

"Of course, do you know how little I care?" the director responded, raising his voice slightly.

"I'll have you fired within a week," she snapped back.

"It won't be the first time," he admitted. "My resume is always up to date." He firmly turned his back on Rita and faced the teens. "Kim, Ron, I thank you for your time, and I apologize for the interview's tone. I'll contact your support man and request another time, with a better interviewer." He winked at them as Rita snarled at his back. "And one other thing. Ron, thank you doing the difficult things and accepting the cost."

"You can't protect your little hometown heroes forever," Rita raged.

"Yeah, but I can help them out when they're on MY stage," the man spun back on Rita. They started to hurl some rather colorful language at each other while Warren appeared.

"Kim, Ron," he said. "Let's get the two of you back to your dressing room. I think Ron could use a little time to compose himself before you leave the station."

Both teens nodded gratefully and allowed him to lead them off of the stage. Once in their dressing room, they helped each other to clean off the stage makeup. Kim then planted Ron on one of the couches, sat on his lap and pulled his head down to her shoulder, while sobs shook his body.

"I didn't want to remember it," he forced the words out between his sobs. Kim just hugged him tighter. Warren was uncomfortable being where he was but couldn't find a graceful way of leaving. Plus, he wanted to make sure that no one else saw this, so he guarded the door. Ron was just getting some control over himself when the Kimmunicator chirped.

"Hi Wade," Kim's voice was much more subdued than usual.

"I monitored the entire thing. How's Ron doing?" The voice from the box reflected the genius's concern.

"Holding up, thanks for asking," Ron replied.

"I want you to know, Kim isn't the only one that has your back, Ron." Wade informed him. "Unfortunately, we've got something else going on. Aviarius has been spotted in Minnesota. The Shego sitch has Team Go at less than full capacity and Global Justice is requesting your help."

"I don't know," Kim began, her voice full of concern over Ron.

"Let's do it, KP," Ron cut it. "I could use some 'head in the game' to get my mind off of…you know."

"Wade, did you hear that?" Kim asked.

"Every word. Transport will be at you location in ten."

"Mind if I tag along?" Warren asked. Then added, with a smile, "I'd love to get some good footage to rub in Richards' face."

* * *

_A/N:_

_Again, I managed to create some problems with my email not accepting review alerts from the FanFiction site. Again, I offer my most sincere appologies to anybody who reviewed, but did not get a response. Thank you very much to everyone who reviewed. I'm still fighting this problem, but I will check for reviews and PM respond. Thanks for putting up with me. _

_My biggest thanks, as always, go to Joe Stoppinghem for his Beta reading and suggestions._

_Until my next update, best wishes,_

_daccu65_


	15. The Monkey Goes to the Birds

Chapter 15: The Monkey Goes to the Birds

Kim really didn't feel like opening her eyes. She wanted to just go back to sleep, no matter how late it was. For the first time in her life, she felt like sleeping until noon. Unfortunately, she knew it was a vain hope. Once she woke up in the morning, she was awake for the day. She stared, bleary eyed at her alarm clock and was actually happy to note that she had slept in a full two hours past her usual wake up time. With a bittersweet sigh, she crawled out of bed and headed for the shower to start her morning routine.

Freshly showered, Kim wandered to the kitchen to grab a late breakfast, or early lunch, or whatever you called a meal at this time of the morning. Once in the kitchen, she decided to have the best of both worlds by grabbing a bowl of cereal and making a sandwich. Once finished, she checked the clock. Ron was probably still at Temple, so she decided to veg in the den until after noon. She was surprised to find her mother waiting for her.

"Someone filmed you and Ronald in action yesterday." Anne Possible informed her daughter with simultaneous gestures at the television and the couch. Kim took the hint and joined her mother on the couch, so that she could describe what they had done.

"Just why did Global Justice call you in to assist Team Go, anyway?" Anne asked, as Kim took her seat. "I thought that Team Go generally took care of Aviarius without help."

"Mego and the Wego were visiting Shego's hospital room," Kim informed her mother. "And Aviarius has come up with some sort of Go-power stealing crystal. Global Justice's intelligence reports indicated that while he could steal Team Go's powers, he couldn't steal Team Possible's kung-fu skills."

"Where is Shego, by the way?" Anne wondered.

"I don't know," Kim answered. "The National Security Agency is having her treated at a secret location. Not even Hego knows where she's at."

"I guess that makes sense," Anne accepted the explanation. "So who was the cameraman who captured the action?" Anne asked.

"Warren, he's a roving cameraman for Middleton Channel 6. Ever since he caught Ron and me taking down Shego and Eric, the network has given him an unlimited travel budget and Global Justice lets him tag along with the affiliated teams. They like to be able to review the footage and suggest alternate courses of action."

"That's a good plan," Anne nodded. "So, tell me what's happening here."

"Okay, Global Justice's intelligence service had found out that Aviarius had just set up housekeeping in this warehouse in Rochester, Minnesota. Ron, Hego, and I met up in an office a couple of blocks away and made our plans."

"What was the villain doing in Rochester? The only thing of any prominence there is the Mayo Clinic and I don't see him as the medical minded sort."

"I don't know, mom. Global Justice's intelligence had tracked him there and called us in to bring him down."

"What plan did you come up with?"

"What you see here; Hego went in first, since we figured that Aviarius was expecting to tangle with him. The footage isn't the best, since Warren had to duck and dodge, but you get the main idea."

"Okay, Hego is dodging some sort of beams coming from Aviarius's staff," Anne commented. "Is that how Aviarius expected to steal his super power?"

"Yes," Kim answered. "Now, you see here? Several robot penguins have emerged from packing crates and are attacking Hego. He's getting so tied up with them that he can't avoid the staff blasts. That's where Ron and I came in."

"Ah, yes!" Anne exclaimed. "There you are, jumping in and helping Hego with those robots. Where's Ronald?"

"He's sneaking up on Aviarius. He slipped in a skylight and is swinging from the rafters, approaching Aviarius from behind."

"Oh, I see him now," Anne giggled. "For a boy who hates monkeys as much as he does, he can certainly move like one!"

"Uh, yeah. Anyway we hadn't expected that Aviarius would have those robotic, flying condors watching his back. There! They come out of nowhere and attack Ron."

"Ouch!" Anne sympathized with her daughter's boyfriend, then she suddenly giggled. "But his 'Wonder Weasel' boxers are so cute. So we have Ronald tangling with two of those flying things while the third one is flying in circles with Ron's pants on its head."

Kim smiled, "I never thought one of Ron's pants incidents would be so helpful. Anyway, here's what really messed me up."

The two women watched as the beam from Aviarius's staff struck Hego. The big man stiffened, then slumped as a ball of blue light left his body and flew towards the bird-obsessed villain. Kim, struggling with the penguin-robots, inadvertently jumped in the light's path. The blue light struck her, causing her to glow blue. She stumbled for just a moment, then kicked one of the robots, breaking it in half.

"What was that, Kimmie?" Anne asked her daughter.

That blue glow was Hego's power," Kim explained. "When it hit me, I suddenly had Hego's super strength. You can see that I didn't really have much control over it. Right about…now…I try a back flip."

"Oh, my goodness," Anne Possible's mouth dropped open when she saw her daughter's enhanced legs send her flying up into the building's rafters. At ground level, Hego returned to his feet and continued to fight the robots.

"Hego's still in the fight?" Anne asked. "Why didn't he run away?"

"Even though he lost his super strength, he's still a large, strong, well-trained man," Kim answered. "He's not about to back down from Aviarius. I jumped down to help him and that's when Ron got hit."

Anne watched it unfold on television. Kim jumped from the rafters and into the midst of the attacking robots. Aviarius aimed his staff at her and fired. Ron, struggling with one of the condor robots, swept into the beam's path. The beam hit the boy, creating a light blue glow to surround him for just a moment. Ron flinched, then continued his struggle as Aviarius gave his staff a quick examination. By the time he satisfied himself that it was in working order, Ron had maneuvered himself onto the robot condor's back and had gained control of its direction. The boy steered the mechanical bird into a collision with the villain, even as Aviarius was aiming his staff at Kim. Boy, villain and robot tumbled to the ground.

The rest was anticlimactic. Ron tangled Aviarius up in a martial arts grappling hold and applied a carotid artery choke to the villain, quickly rendering him unconscious. Without the distraction of Aviarius' beams, Kim and Hego were able to quickly disable the remaining penguin robots. Kim and Ron then used their wrist-grapples to bring down the two remaining condor robots.

Wade used the Kimmunicator to scan Aviarius' staff and told Hego how to operate it. Hego fired the beam at Kim, which returned his super power to its rightful owner. Local Police arrived a few minutes later and took Aviarius into custody. A Global Justice team arrived and began disassembling and inspecting the robots and the staff. The coverage ended as Ron was shaking hands (flinching with pain) with Hego and Kim was contacting Wade to arrange for a ride home. Anne Possible turned off the television and turned to her daughter.

"That's not the only television coverage about the two of you," She informed Kim. "I saw the interview that Richards woman conducted. I'm very proud of the way you and Ronald handled yourselves, but I have to ask you, how is Ronald holding up?"

"He's still a little shook up," Kim informed her mother. "Dr. Director called us on our ride back and had Ron talk to a sort of on-call mental health professional that Global Justice keeps on staff. She had me step away so that she could have a short, private conversation with Ron. He seemed to be feeling better when it was done. Then she talked to me, in private. She asked me if he was talking about quitting the hero business or more…drastic things, which he wasn't. She said that what he was going through was normal, and as long as he wasn't rejected by friends or family, he would be fine. She said that I should make sure that he didn't spend a lot of time alone for the rest of the weekend, and she scheduled a time to visit with him on Monday, just to be sure."

"Did she ask you to do anything else?" Anne asked.

"Yeah," Kim blushed just a little bit. "She suggested that I cuddle up to him on the trip home."

"Make him feel safe and loved?" Anne suggested, with a gentle smile.

"There was actually more to it than that," Kim commented. "According to her, by cuddling up to him, having him put his arms around me, in much the same way that he destroyed…_**Eric**_," the name came out as a disgusted growl. "I was showing him that I trusted him; that I…accepted him despite what he had done."

"You didn't really mind having his arms around you, did you?" Anne asked, her smile growing somewhat sly. Kim shook her head. "You intended to do that anyway, didn't you?" Anne's smile grew slightly as Kim nodded, with just a little bit of red showing on her face.

"Let's set Ronald on the back burner for just a moment," Anne's expression became more concerned. "And talk about you. How are you holding up after yesterday."

"It was weird having Hego's super strength," Kim admitted. "I didn't know how to handle it. But when Hego took it back it was…tiring."

"I saw that you staggered somewhat," Anne admitted. "But that's not what I was talking about. How are you after that interview?"

"It was no big, mom."

"Kimmie, I'm your mother. You were very upset and you're still wound up tighter than normal. Some of that might be the mission, but I don't think so. That interview bothered you more than you're letting on. Ronald's at Temple and your father has the twins out launching their rockets. I'm all yours. What's bothering you about the interview?"

Kim sat in silence for several endless seconds, recalling the experience. Finally, with her thoughts more or less collected, she addressed her mother.

"Mom, could any of the things that that Richards woman said be true?"

"You mean about you and Shego-"

"No! I know that I'm not attracted to other girls. I mean the other things; the things about me and Ron."

Anne took a few minutes to review the interview in her mind. She considered the interviewer's various innuendo's and suggestions. Suddenly, things clicked into place in her mind.

"Let's see how close I am to describing what you're feeling right now," Anne told her daughter. "That way, you'll be able to tell if I'm ready to offer some advice." Kim sat back and motioned for her to continue.

"Those interview questions made you think," Anne started. "First, you're wondering why you haven't become intimate with Ronald; is it common sense and restraint or is it cold feet? Secondly, even though you know you're in love with him, you have some doubts in the back of your mind. First, you're wondering if you really are in love with him, or if what you're feeling is deep friendship and strong gratitude for him sticking with you, despite how you pushed him aside when you chased after the latest hottie."

"You're also wondering about Ronald's feelings," Anne continued. "Ron knew you for those same twelve years, yet he never expressed any sort of romantic interest in you. Yet, he started dating Sue within weeks of meeting her, he asked Dessie out the day they met and he asked Monique out to the prom. You're wondering if Rita was correct, maybe the two of you did exhaust your options and are now settling for each other. It's not a very serious thought, but it's there, in the back of your mind and it's bothering you." She caught Kim's eyes with her own. "How am I doing so far?"

"Creeping me out, actually," Kim admitted. "Read minds much?"

"No, it wasn't THAT long ago that I was a teenager," Anne smiled. "Now, where was I, oh yes. Although you know it's never going to happen, you're terrified that Ronald might drop you if a real Dessie shows up. You're even more terrified that you might drop Ronald if a real Eric shows up. You know you're in love, but it's human nature to worry about these things."

"Are you done showing off yet?" Kim asked.

"Almost," Anne replied, with a short laugh. "But here's where it's going to get more personal. Right now, I think that you're debating taking your relationship with Ronald to the next level." Anne paused for a moment, "the fact that you're just sitting there with you mouth open tells me I must be dead on again."

Kim closed her mouth as her mother continued, "it's not that hard to figure out, Kimmie. Take what I've already said and add a couple more things: a healthy teenager's libido and the fact that you deal with situations by taking decisive action. If you were to take that step, you would reassure yourself and Ronald that your feelings are real. You would also show Ronald your trust and acceptance, beyond the cuddling you did last night. Finally, you would really enjoy it."

"Of course, you have reasons for not taking the relationship to that level," Anne continued. "First of all, like Ronald told that Richards woman, the two of you are underage, unemployed and not ready for adult responsibilities and consequences. You're also thinking that it's too soon, in your relationship, to take that step. How am I doing?"

"Like I said, creepy," Kim was looking decidedly uncomfortable. "Are you mad at me?"

"Whatever for, Kimmie? I'd actually wonder about you if you didn't think about a…physical relationship with Ronald. No, what you're feeling right now is perfectly normal. What's also perfectly normal is the talk that I'm about to have with you." Kim flinched.

"Don't do that, Kim, I said I wasn't mad at you," Anne shook her head with a smile. "I'm not even disappointed with you. However, I will be disappointed if you choose to take your relationship to the next level at this time. I'm not telling you when the time is going to be right for you and Ronald; I'm asking you to talk to me when you think that it is. At that time, we'll discuss it like two grown women. I trust you Kim; I trust you and Ronald to think that decision through. Both of you are smart enough to realize that there are consequences to that sort of thing that the two of you just aren't ready to face at this time."

Kim waited for several moments, "that's it, just come talk to you when I think we're ready?"

"Does there have to be more?" Anne asked. "Well, actually there is more. I think that it would do the two of you a world of good to go out and do something fun today. Didn't you say that your date up at Lake Middleton was about the most fun that you've ever had?" Kim nodded. "Then call up some more friends, talk your boyfriend into running the two of you up there on his bike, and have some fun. You and Ronald could use the friendly company. You could catch a movie tonight." Anne's smile grew sly, "Your father and brothers will be exhausted after chasing rockets all day. They'll be asleep early, so the two of you can come home from the movie and make out on the couch. Within reason, of course."

"Mom!"

"Something wrong with the plan?"

"Well…no."

* * *

It had been about the best summer Saturday that Kim could ever remember. She had surprised her boyfriend, simply informing him that he was taking her up to the lake. The motorcycle ride was wonderful and Ron's eyes lit up when he saw Felix, Oscar, Monique and Cindy already at the beach. Tara, Josh, Bonnie, and Brick were sunbathing and (except for Bonnie) offered friendly waves. While Ron had been a little reserved at first, the presence of so many friends, with the fun they were all having, quickly broke him out of his funk.

Felix had what could only be described as monster tires on his wheelchair, which allowed him to operate surprisingly well on the soft sand. The handicapped boy loved to swim, so Ron and Oscar helped him into the water, where he was right at home. After swimming for a short time, Kim, Ron, Cindy, and Oscar soon wound up camel fighting again. Before long, Tara and Josh joined in the fun. The high point, at least from Kim's view, was when Brick got tired of being Bonnie's fashion accessory and joined them. Soon, Monique was on his shoulders for the four-way free-for-all, while Bonnie fumed at them.

Kim was just about ready to call it quits and soak up some rays, when the Kimmunicator went off. She slid down from Ron's shoulders and quick-stepped across the beach to her bag. In the meantime, Felix wanted to get back in his chair so Ron went to help his friend.

"So what's the sitch," Kim asked, a little irritated at the notion of being called away from the beach.

"No missions, Kim," Wade reported. "Just two items. First, how's Ron doing? I'm curious and there's a lot of hits to the site asking the same question."

"He was a still a little down when we got here," Kim reported. "But good friends and good times seem to have made all the difference."

"Good, is it okay if I post that on the site?" At Kim's nod, Wade performed some more keyboard magic. "Second item, Warren would like to meet you again."

"When, where, and why?" Kim asked.

"He's says he has some coverage of your get together at the beach. He intends on airing some of it as a personal interest piece and he would like to describe it to you before he does."

"Oh, when can he meet with me?"

"Right now," Wade smiled. "He's about one hundred yards back from the swim area."

"On it, Wade."

Kim slipped on her sandals and told Ron where she was going. While Kim left to speak to Warren, Ron decided that the amount of sleep he had managed the night before was a few hours short of what a growing, teenaged boy required. He spread out a towel, grabbed a cold drink from the cooler, and sprawled out on his belly to rectify the situation while the rest of the party started to throw a Frisbee around the beach.

Kim's meeting with Warren was quick and cordial. The cameraman had caught some video footage of the teens enjoying themselves on the beach. While Warren didn't need Kim's consent to air the footage, he felt guilty about the ambush Team Possible had walked into the previous day. He played back his footage, showing Ron acting a little down when he arrived, but cheering up after spending time with friends. All in all, the footage showed a boy who was affected by some traumatic events but was dealing with it, with the help of his friends and his girlfriend. Kim wholeheartedly approved of the proposed story.

Shortly after Kim left to talk with Warren, Monique decided to take a break. She shook her head, thinking that she might want to take up some sort of sport or exercise program, if she wanted to keep up with this bunch. Kim, Ron, Oscar and Cindy were all athletes of some sort. Monique knew that she was far from being out of condition but these four friends of hers seemed to be just getting warmed up even when she was worn out. She knew that Ron would still be going strong if he hadn't had that rough experience yesterday.

Monique spread out her beach towel next to the dozing, blonde boy and looked at him affectionately. She sometimes felt a very small twinge of regret that nothing had come out of their prom date, but she knew that it wouldn't have worked out anyway. When it really came down to it, Kim and Ron had spent years molding their lives around each other. Ron was a good guy, but he had always been about the most unavailable, single guy on the planet. She was actually glad that he and Kim had finally gotten together. Another, affectionate glance at her friend told her that he might have a problem if she didn't do something about it.

"Hey Blondie," she addressed him, as she dug into her beach bag.

"Huh?" He wasn't completely asleep, but he was definitely in 'out of it' mode.

"Kim's butt rubbed the sunscreen off of the back of your neck," she told him, retrieving a bottle of the aforementioned substance from the bag. "Hold still, I'll get it."

"Thangs…EYIEE!" The spurt of cold sunscreen hitting his back sent Ron shooting up a good foot above his towel; his eyes the size of the Frisbee flying around the beach. Monique, once she got over her shock, convulsed with laughter.

"S-s-sorry, Ron," she managed to force out, between her giggles. Ron grumbled something about rude wakeups and settled himself down again. Monique, still chuckling, reached out and quickly rubbed the lotion into Ron's skin.

Kim finished her discussion and returned to the beach. She walked around the dressing area and stopped cold at the sight that greeted her, a smiling Monique rubbing Ron's shoulders.

Monique looked up and saw Kim, positively fuming, stalking forward. She looked down are realized that what she was doing, although innocent, could be easily misconstrued by a high-strung, ultra-competitive redhead. Thinking quickly, she jumped to her feet as her best friend approached.

"Dang! I think I left my shades in Felix's van," she announced, as Kim stomped to a halt. "Kim, care to come help me look for them?"

Kim spluttered for just a moment, then seeing Monique's obvious and meaningful glance first at Ron, then to the parking lot, she complied. The two maintained their silence until they got away from the dozing boy.

"Care to tell me what that glare was all about?" Monique demanded, as she led her friend past the parking lot and to the picnic area.

"I was just jumping to the wrong conclusion," Kim admitted. The short walk had given her precious seconds to calm down and think things through. She had spotted the smear of lotion on Ron's skin. Monique hadn't been caressing him, massaging the stuff into his skin like…well, like the way Kim and rubbed sunscreen into his back when they got here. Of course, Ron had returned the favor for her in exactly the same way.

"You thought I was making a play for your boyfriend, didn't you?" Monique's tone was both accusing and indignant.

"I…uh," Kim took a deep breath. "Fine, for just a moment back there, yeah."

"Girlfriend, I don't go for lost causes," Monique shook her head as the two of them sat across from each other at a picnic table. "That boy is so wound up in you it isn't even funny."

"I know, Mon, it just that…I don't know."

"Let me try," Monique stepped in. "That interview yesterday has you really tweaked and now you don't like the idea of another girl close to the guy?" Kim nodded. "You really think that anything could pull him away from you?"

"I know he isn't about to ditch me," Kim explained. "But I guess I can't help myself…Monique, put your hands out on the table just like this." Kim placed her hands on the table, one palm down and the other palm up. Monique followed suit. "Now," Kim continued. "Look at my hands."

Monique looked at her friend's hands. The first thing that she noticed was the thick calluses on Kim's knuckles especially the first two. Looking closer, she noticed more calluses running down both the inside and outside edges of Kim's hands.

"Touch my palm," Kim instructed her, after noticing her expression. Monique did so. Although Kim's skin was smooth, it wasn't soft. Her skin felt almost like leather.

"That's the side effects of freak fighting and saving the world," Kim said, with just a touch of bitterness in her voice. "Even though I wear mission gloves, all of the punches, knife-hand strikes, ridge-hand strikes, and rappelling takes a toll." She sighed, "and it isn't just the hands."

Monique nodded in sympathy while looking at her friend. Kim was attractive, there was no getting around it, but her adventurous lifestyle had left her somewhat less attractive than she could have been. The intense physical activity had worn off any non-glandular fat and had toned her muscles. As a result, Kim was rather…angular where the classic, western definition of feminine beauty called for her to be…rounded. Her skin, while smooth and blemish-free, was taunt and solid, rather than soft and supple. She also carried just a little more muscle than would be perfect for a girl with her build. The result was a very attractive girl, rather than a drop-dead gorgeous girl.

"When you were rubbing the lotion into Ron's shoulders," Kim remarked. "I was thinking about how nice it would have been to have soft hands when I rubbed it into his back."

Monique nodded, "I suppose Ron's picked up some pretty rough hands as well."

Kim nodded.

"Now," Monique continued, "when he was rubbing the sunscreen into your back, were you thinking about how much nicer it would have been if his hands were softer?"

"No," Kim replied, with a faint blush. "I was just…enjoying it."

"So, why do you think your rough hands bother him?"

"Well, I see you and Tara and Cindy and…_**Bonnie**_," Kim snarled out the last name. "And I can't help but think that I'm not really very…girly."

"You know, girlfriend," Monique told her, with a shake of her head. "For someone who's a potential valedictorian, your LOT is so whacked that I don't know where to begin."

"LOT?"

"Line of thought. Of course, I don't know if I can call what you're doing right now thinking."

Kim sat there, open-mouthed. This, of course, gave Monique the silence she needed to continue.

"So you're not the fashion-magazine definition of the perfect girl. Ron isn't exactly the fashion-magazine definition of the perfect guy. Of all of us here today, I'd say that Tara comes the closest to the so-called ideal girl, and Brick comes closest to the so-called ideal guy. So why aren't they together?"

"They just don't seem interested in each other," Kim replied.

"Exactly! Tara is attracted to the good-looking, artistic type, so she pursued Josh once the two of you broke up. So far, the two of them seem to be getting along fine. As for Brick, who knows what he sees in Bonnie? Bottom line up front, GF, we've all got a different vision of perfect in the looks department. Your boyfriend just happens to be drawn to slender, athletic redheads." Kim had to smile at that.

"Next point, you're selling that boy short if you think good looks are all he's looking for and the same goes for you. If good looks were all you wanted, you'd still be with Josh. If good looks were all Ron wanted, Dessie would have succeeded in her mission. So don't you dare be acting like you don't measure up for that boy; I'd do just about anything to have that nice of a guy that crazy about me."

"I take it I had this lecture coming?" Kim asked, once she regained speech.

"You better believe it. Now, if you don't like me being around Ron, just let me know. I'm sure he'd get a little surly if some guy started rubbing lotion on your back."

"Thanks Mon,"

"No charge, what say we get back to the beach?"

"Sounds good to me. One thing?"

"Yeah?"

"The next time Ron needs something rubbed into his back, let me know and I'll do it."

"Deal!"

* * *

Aviarius perched on his bunk in the Rochester City Jail. He hated jail cells; not only did they remind him of birdcages, but also he was slightly claustrophobic. His jailers had had the decency to leave his window open, which eased some of his mental condition. However, the bars over the window were far too stout for him to damage.

He was in a fowl mood. He had come so close! His goal had been to acquire the first of Team Go's powers while in Rochester. This would have given him enough time to master it before moving on to his next target. Instead, Hego and Team Possible had plucked his fledgling plan before it could take flight. He would probably be in this cell for a few days before being extradited to Go City.

"Aviarius," a low, polite, conversational voice flowed in through the open window. "I wonder if I could inconvenience you for a bit of conversation about today's activities?" Aviarius was rather startled, since his cell was on the building's fourth floor, but saw no harm in playing along.

"Not at all," he answered. "Would you be nice enough to tell me your name?"

"Perhaps after a bit, pending some agreements at which we may arrive," the voice had a distinct, British accent.

"I've got nothing better to do, speak your piece."

"Excellent, old boy," the voice seemed slightly amused. "I saw the footage today of your little altercation with Hego and Team Possible. The news reported that you intended to use your staff to steal the large man's powers. Is this true?"

"Steal?" Aviarius demanded. "How can I steal something that was never really his in the first place? He just happened to be at the right place, at the right time. I'd say those powers belong to whomever can acquire and make use of them."

"I believe that we're going to get along famously," the voice responded. "Lets talk a bit about what happened when that boy, Stoppable, encountered the staff's beam."

"So that's his name? No matter, he seems to have some sort of power, but my staff wasn't…attuned…to acquire it."

"Ah," the voice became intent. "I happen to know that the boy is highly skilled in the art of Tai Sheng Pek Kwar, monkey kung fu, could your staff have attempted to seize this skill?"

"No," Aviarius shook his head, even though he wasn't sure the voice's owner could see him. "These aren't powers, they're skills, like carpentry or knowing history. The staff cannot acquire skills. That boy has some form of unnatural power."

"You are correct, sir," now the voice sounded satisfied. "Since you've grasped this truth, I find myself in a position to offer you a proposal. I shall break you free of this cell and offer you sanctuary. In return, you will assist me in acquiring the power Mr. Stoppable possesses. After which, I shall use this power in assisting you to acquire Team Go's powers. Do you find this offer acceptable?"

"Under one condition, I want to know, for sure, whom I'm dealing with. Judging by your voice and manners I'd say I'm talking to Monkeyfist."

"Lord Montgomery Fisk, at your service," the villain's face appeared at the window. "Not to rush you, old boy, but do we have an agreement? The night is wearing on."

"Yeah, we have an agreement. When are you going to get me out of here?"

"Right now, of course." The altered nobleman produced a small, glass bottle and dribbled a thick fluid from it onto the tops and bottoms of the bars. The bars began to smoke. "My current lodging has a rather impressive collection of chemistry equipment and notes. However, I must say that you're going to need to be prepared to move quickly in a few moments."

"No problem at all," Aviarius practically purred. "So what do we do once you get me out of here?"

"That depends upon how quickly you will be prepared to fulfill your part of the bargain," Fisk informed him. "While we are waiting for this hyper-acid to do its work, why don't you tell me what you'll need?"

"Well, I suppose the cops have my staff," Aviarius mused. "It'll take me a couple of months to build a new one."

"No need, old boy," Fisk replied. "The Rochester Police had it in their evidence locker. I took the liberty of obtaining it before coming here. You may, of course, need to repair it."

"No problem, but taking Stoppable's power may be difficult."

"Oh, how's this?" Fisk asked.

"Acquiring supernatural powers is a very exact science. I had tuned, for want of a better term, the staff to acquire Team Go's powers. That's why it didn't latch on to, what's his name, Stoppable's power. Since Team Go all acquired their super powers from the same comet, I can take all of their powers with the same configuration. I have to modify the staff to take Stoppable's."

"How long will it take to re-configure the staff for Stoppable?" Asked Fisk. "Oh, step back and to the side, old boy."

Aviarius complied with Fisk's instructions. The Englishman struck each of the bars a sharp, powerful blow, which sent the middle section clattering into Aviarius' cell. A shout sounded from inside the cellblock.

"Quickly now," Fisk shouted. "Through the window and up this rope. I have an aircraft on the roof."

The bird-man followed the monkey-man up the rope and onto the roof. He was about to jump into the small aircraft when Fisk halted him with a hand on his shoulder. Fisk reached into the craft and pressed a button. The aircraft took off and flew to the north, leaving the two villains on the roof.

"My statement about aircraft was for the benefit of anybody, who may have been listening," Fisk informed Aviarius, as he led the newly freed man to the opposite side of the roof. "Let the authorities pursue that aircraft while we make our escape in the opposite direction."

Aviarius followed Fisk down another rope (which Fisk recovered) then down several back alleys to where a service van was parked.

"I'm afraid you'll have to sit in the back," Fisk told his guest. "There will be far too many people looking for your rather unique face. You'll find your staff in the large, metal box on the shelf."

Soon, Fisk was driving the two of them south, out of the City of Rochester. Fisk had to concentrate on using the right-hand side of the road, but it wasn't long before they were out of town.

"I have taken the liberty of securing a farmhouse just over the border, in Iowa," Fisk called over his back. "We should be there in about two hours. Why don't you relax and continue your explanation about the difficulties in acquiring Stoppable's power?"

"Right," Aviarius answered, examining his staff. "Like I said, I had tuned the staff to take Team Go's powers, not Stoppable's. Re-tuning it is going to take some time."

"How much time?"

"First, I'm going to need to adjust the staff from 'acquire' mode to 'scan' mode. That will take me a couple of days. Then, I'm going to need to scan Stoppable while he's using his power. After that, it will take me anywhere from a week to three months to tune it to his power. Then, his power is all mine…er…yours. Sorry about that."

"No need, old boy. I understand that you had your heart set on taking power for yourself. No bother, Team Go's power will soon be yours." Fisk paused. "If you had your staff tuned to Team Go's frequency, what were you doing in Rochester? The only thing here is the Mayo….of course!" A light had gone on in Fisk's head. "A world renown medical center, dedicated to cutting edge and sometimes experimental medicine! Shego is receiving treatment somewhere in the Mayo Clinic and you wanted to take her powers while she was unable to defend herself! Brilliant plan, old boy, how did you track her here?"

"I'm not giving up all of my secrets," Aviarius informed his host. "All I'll say is that if you get me to a computer with internet access, I can find her, anywhere on Earth, in a matter of a few days. Now, how are we going to get a scan of Stoppable? Rush in and take him on?"

"No, I think you've just given me the tool I need," Fisk mused. "Configure your staff for scanning, then track Shego again. I suspect that she will be moved again, shortly. We will then need to acquire some resources. I think that I can arrange for Team Possible to come to us."

* * *

_A/N: Before I say anything else, I have to mention that the bots were down the last time that I updated. As a result, I'm not 100 sure that I responded to every review. I would like to offer my most sincere apology to anybody who left a review, but did not receive a response. _

_Again, thank you to everybody who has left a review. The reviews, and the PM's that I'm receiving, are a big encouragement. Thank you._

_Finally, thank you again to Joe Stoppinghem, for his patient beta reading services._

_Till next update, best wishes_

_daccu65_


	16. New Additions

Chapter 16: New Additions

Success! After three weeks in the artificial womb, the monkey had completely grown back its missing arm.

"Subject is alert, healthy, and not in any noticeable discomfort at this time," Amy dictated into her recorder, as she observed the monkey in its pen. "The re-grown arm seems to be weaker than the other. I believe that this arm will regain strength with use but I will continue to observe the subject too confirm this."

"I have allowed the subject limited contact with other monkeys," she continued, as a divider in the monkey's cell opened. There were two monkeys in the other cell, which immediately joined her subject. The three monkeys began sniffing each other. As they had been captured from the same band, they recognized each other.

"I am no expert on simian behavior," Amy continued, watching the monkeys. "But the subject seems somewhat…dominant towards other monkeys. The subject demands first call on all food, the most comfortable sleeping perches, and that the others groom him. The subject was the alpha male in his band, so I suspect that this behavior is a result of his status, rather than a side effect of the treatment."

"I am forwarding a full report, including video recordings, to my employer," Amy concluded. "As the procedure is obviously successful, I shall proceed with the second step immediately. File report."

Amy clicked off her recorder and returned to her lab, after a last glance at the monkeys. Her procurers, advertising via word of mouth, had acquired two more subjects for her. One was deformed from Polio and the other suffered from Multiple Sclerosis. She would perform the procedure on both of them. She had already pulled brain-stem cells from both and a few hours of work would see them both prepared.

She smiled, sadly. She didn't care about the long, irregular hours. She truly loved her work and the compensation her employer provided was very welcome. The only problem was that she missed Monty. She sighed. They had only had a few days together, which she had savored. Although she wanted to be with him, she realized that he would never approve of her experiments. No, it was better this way. Her work was going well, he was recovering at her safe house, and her employer was being very generous. A few more months and they would be able to spend all of their time together.

* * *

"Ron, will you just settle down?" Kim shook her head, grabbed her BFBF's belt, and forced him to sit next to her on his parents' couch. "If you're getting this worked up about meeting your adoptive little sister, I can just about imagine what you're going to be like when w-, I mean you, become a father."

"I know, KP, but it's like, what if she doesn't like me? What if she doesn't like Rufus? What if I'm not a good big brother? Maybe I should have saved a couple of those teddy bears."

"Obsess much?" Kim shook her head again, even though she had to smile at that last statement. After their live interview with Rita Richards, and the subsequent 'human interest' report that Warren had put together, someone on line had gotten the idea to send Ron teddy bears. This had prompted a deluge of the cuddly little toys. For several days, Ron didn't have a clue what to do with them all, then he decided to give them away. No patient under the age of twelve had checked out of the Middleton Medical Center without a teddy bear, since.

"No, Ron," Kim took her boyfriend's hand. "Giving those teddy bears away to those kids was the right thing to do. You've made a lot of kids happy. Now, the cuddle-buddy you bought for her, yourself was appropriate for a big brother. Just calm down, your folks will be here with your little sister in a few minutes, then we can get on with the business of having a little sister."

"We?" Ron wasn't as distracted as he was letting on.

"Well," Kim had a slight blush. "I've always said that you're the tweebs' big brother, I don't know why I can't be a big sister to…"

"Hanna," Ron supplied.

"Hanna," Kim replied with a grin and a nod. "It's a cute name."

"Yeah," Ron agreed. "She's nine months hold, she's Asian, and all the agency will say is that her parents weren't ready to raise a child."

Kim nodded at him; it was only the twentieth time today he had given her this information.

"But what if she doesn't like me or Rufus?" He continued.

"Ron, stop!" Kim knew she had to head this off. "You're starting to freak me out as well. Let's talk about something else."

"Good idea, KP," Ron admitted. "What do we talk about?"

"Let's see," Kim mused. "Oh, no! Do we dare?"

"Dare what?"

"Ron, after the two of us got together, our mothers had a word with me and our fathers did the same with you. We've never talked about our discussions, have we?"

"Uh, er, no," Ron admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Don't you think it's about time?" She prompted.

"Uh, I guess so."

"Okay, you first!" Kim gushed, then sat back.

"Well, my talk had a lot to do with the, er, progress our relationship could take," Ron said, after a few minutes to gather his thoughts. "Your dad sort of laid down some rules, but they really confused me."

"What did he say?" Kim growled, planning on having a talk with her father later.

"It had to do with…well…what I could do with you."

"Don't you mean what he'd allow the two of us to do?" Kim growled.

"Uh..yeah. But that's not the way he put it." Kim nodded, knowing the way her father thought.

"Well, the ground rules he laid down were confusing," Ron continued. "He had this chart showing square inches of physical contact allowed, and how it increased with the length of time we continued to date, exclusively. That wasn't so bad, but when he started to explain the adjustment factors, I started to zone out."

"Adjustment factors?" Kim prompted, unsure if she should be amused or irritated.

"Yeah, first there were the…body areas," Ron was blushing furiously at this moment. "Some body parts had a multiplier attached to them so I..er, we, wouldn't be allowed as much contact if those body parts were involved. I had just kind of gotten my head wrapped around this one, when he brought up the clothing coefficient. We have a divider factor proportional to the thickness of the cloth separating our actual skin."

"So the more clothing we're wearing, the more surface area contact he's willing to allow?" Kim was starting to lean towards amused.

"Exactly," Ron confirmed. "I had just figured out that he would frown at you sitting on my lap if we were wearing swimsuits, but he would be fine if we were in mission gear. Then he got into the really confusing factors."

"What other factors could he come up with?" Kim asked the question before she had a chance to wonder if she really wanted to know.

"First there was a time of day factor," Ron answered, giving her a look that said 'you asked for it, don't blame me.' "After six at night, the boundaries get more restrictive. Then there was a lighting factor, which made things more restrictive with dimmer light. It was about this time that my dad's eyes started to glaze over. Then he started with the 'distance to the nearest, responsible adult' factor, and the 'number of adults able to observe us' factor. He was just about to hand me a three ring binder, with all of the factors and charts, when my dad stepped in and summed it up."

"What did your dad say?" Kim was debating trying to find that binder and read it for herself.

"No going past first base until they talked to me again," Ron couldn't quite bring himself to meet her eyes. "Your dad agreed." Ron paused for a few minutes, unsure if Kim was mad at him or not. Looking up, he saw that she was more amused than irritated. This gave him the courage to ask, "What did our mothers talk to you about? Turnabout's fair play."

"They weren't so much concerned about our…progress as they wanted to make sure that us getting together wasn't some rebound thing." Kim quickly grabbed Ron's hand when he flinched at that.

"Ron, I'm sorry, but they did say that."

"It's not your fault," he muttered at first, then continued with a little more annoyance in his voice. "But just once, I'd like to find someone other than Monique who doesn't assume I'm your rebound."

"We'll show them by staying together," Kim assured him. "Anyway, when I described how we got together, our talk out behind the Gym, they were both impressed with us. That's when the compatibility questions started."

"I'm not sure I want to know, but what were the questions and answers?"

"First, they brought up the religious difference. They assured each other that they didn't have any problems with it. They didn't even ask me. Then they asked me what I found attractive about you. I told them that I hadn't realized how cute you had become and that I liked the slender, athletic guys. That's when you mother asked me if I really found you attractive."

"What did you say?" Ron took a drink of lemonade, preparing himself for some form of 'politely diplomatic' answer.

"Only to the point where I wanted to throw you to the ground and ravage you."

Ron quickly found himself experiencing an extended bout of choking.

"You handled that better than our mothers," Kim informed him, after his breathing returned to normal. "They were both drinking coffee at the time and they absolutely sprayed it. I'm glad I wasn't directly in front of them at the time. Anyway, that seemed to have sort of thrown them off track. They spent the rest of the time telling me that if this thing between us works out, it will probably be the best thing that ever happens to us but if it doesn't, it could haunt us both for the rest of our lives."

Kim looked her BFBF squarely in the eyes, "I told them that you were worth the risk. Do you agree?"

"One hundred percent," Ron assured her, leaning in for a kiss. "Even before the clothing coefficient."

Their kiss was somewhat marred by the ensuing giggling, which meant that they weren't terribly disappointed when Ron's parents pulled into the driveway. The teens raced out the door, then tried looking calm and mature for the Stoppables' benefit. Of course, Hanna Stoppable charmed them both at first glance.

Hanna proved to be a fairly content infant. While she didn't smile, very much, at the strange faces around her, she didn't cry either. Kim and the Stoppables (Rufus included) only had about a half-hour to fuss over the new addition before the Kimmunicator went off.

"What's the sitch Wade?" Kim answered, using her trademark answer. "You're seriously cutting into my 'catching some cuteness' time."

"Sorry Kim," the genius replied. "I've got a high priority request from Global Justice. They're not giving me much in the way of details but they say that they'll have transport, and a full briefing at the Stoppables' in ten."

"If GJ thinks it's that important," Ron sighed. "I guess we better deal with it."

"Right," Kim agreed. "Wade, did you catch that?"

"Every word."

"Good enough," Kim looked to her 'second parents.' "I hate to break this up but…"

"We understand, Kimberly," Mr. Stoppable assured her. "National, perhaps international security is at stake."

"Sorry little sis," Ron cooed at Hanna, giving her one final hug before returning the infant to his mother. "Duty calls."

With that, the teens rushed up to Ron's room, where Kim kept a spare set of mission gear. Both were waiting when the GJ hoverjet landed in the Stoppables' street. The teens leapt aboard the aircraft and had just strapped themselves in for takeoff with a video screen unfolded from the ceiling and displayed…

"Dr. Director!" Kim exclaimed. What can Team Possible do for you?"

"I need you to perform a rescue mission, Ki-…I mean Team Possible," Global Justice's head offered a tight smile at her own near-gaffe. "Aviarius seized a …sensitive item from a medical center in Omaha, Nebraska. We tracked him to an equipment shed, on a farm outside of town and sent in Will Du. Naturally, Du has already been captured. His biometric implant reports that he's still alive. I need you to enter the shed, liberate Du, and secure the item. Once you have done that, a GJ team will move in and assist."

"Just what is the item, Dr. Director?" Kim asked.

"I will not say over this channel, even though it's secure," Dr. Director informed her. "I will say that you'll recognize it when you see it."

"Uh, not to question your tactile brilliance," Ron began.

"Tactical brilliance," Kim corrected.

"That too," Ron conceded. "But why Team Possible? What about Team Go and Team Impossible?"

"Valid points," Dr. Director admitted. "In light of Aviarius's ability to steal Team Go's super powers, we don't want them anywhere near him. As for Team Impossible, while we haven't seen him, we consider it likely that Monkeyfist is assisting Aviarius."

"And we have the most experience dealing with Monty," Ron concluded. Kim wondered why her BFBF gave his wrist grapple a discrete pat as he said this.

"Correct," Dr. Director confirmed.

"I'm not sure I feel right about this," Kim offered. "We know that Fisk has his sights on Ron. What if this is a trap?"

"That is possible," Director conceded. "If you encounter Fisk, I want you to immediately call in the support team."

"Understood, Dr. Director," Kim replied, feeling better about tangling with Fisk.

"Your technical support man has given us your Kimmunicator frequency and scrambler codes," Director continued. "We will monitor your communication until you resolve this situation. Agent Jones is the operative in charge of the support team. When you arrive, in roughly ninety minutes, report to him. He will be expecting you. Good luck to the both of you."

"Ahem!" An irritated Rufus glared at the screen from his perch on Ron's shoulder.

"Er, the three of you," Dr. Director amended. "Dr. Director out."

With that, the screen went dark and folded back into the ceiling. Kim and Ron spent the rest of the trip discussing tactics against Aviarius and possibly Monkeyfist. They were also trying to get their heads into the game, as both wanted to finish the mission and get back to fussing over Hanna. As it was, it seemed to be only a few minutes, rather than an hour and a half, before they landed outside of Omaha and Agent Jones met them.

"The subject, item and our agent are in there," the GJ operative was all business as he gestured to a large structure.

To someone used to urban life, the term 'equipment shed' brought to mind a small, aluminum structure, maybe the size of a bedroom, used to store yard and garden tools. For the structure that confronted Team Possible, the concept was the same but the scale was much larger. The farm, located on the Great Plains, had an acreage that rivaled a couple of smaller, European nations and required extensive equipment to work the land. The 'shed' that Agent Jones pointed out was two hundred feet long, one hundred sixty feet wide and the roof's peak was thirty feet above the ground.

"There's no farm equipment in the structure," the agent informed the teens. "The farm owners retired earlier this year and none of their children wanted to go into agriculture. The owners have already sold off the equipment and have rented the farmland prior to an outright sale. Aviarius apparently showed up posing as a traveling circus's representative and rented the structure. He claimed he wanted some shelter for the circus animals while they passed through the area."

"What does the interior look like?" Kim asked, as Ron released Rufus to make a stealthy approach and scout.

"No internal walls," the agent informed her. "Just a big, open space and a concrete floor. As you can see, there are two, big, bay doors on the front of the structure. There are personnel doors right around the corner, and on the far side of the structure. Other than these, the only openings in the walls are a handful of ventilation openings on the roof and the long-axis wall."

"Do you have any information about Aviarius's motivations?" Kim continued her questions.

"None," the agent informed her. "I'm under orders to support you. We haven't gone in for fear of Aviarius harming either Du, or the item."

"What is the item, anyway?" Kim asked.

"I don't know," Agent Jones admitted. "Dr. Director instructed me to contact her as soon as you complete your mission. She said that I would receive instructions on the proper care of the item at that time."

"The item is a person," Ron informed the two of them, as he approached with Rufus on his shoulder. "Rufus did a quick scout. Aviarius is in there, perched in the rafters. There's a medical bed, with someone in it, sitting in the middle of the floor. Du is there as well, tied to a chair several feet from the bed. Finally, there's some sort of tarp screening the back half of the building. Rufus couldn't tell what, if anything, was behind it."

"Okay, I'm calling in an ambulance on my own initiative," Agent Jones informed them. "What else do you need from me?"

"We need to take Aviarius by surprise, but we can't risk flash-bangs with the item in the shed," Kim told him. "What kind of horsepower does your vehicle have?"

It turned out that while the agent's vehicle didn't have the horsepower Kim needed, a nearby farmer had a tractor that did. Ron and Kim sneaked up to one of the bay doors, hauling heavy chains. The GJ team attached one end of the chain to the farmer's tractor while Kim and Ron attached their end to the bay door. At a signal, the farmer gunned his tractor, tearing the bay door out of the frame. Kim and Ron charged through the open doorway, Kim tumbling to the right and Ron tumbling to the left.

"So, Team Possible has come to play again," Aviarius commented from the rafters, after his surprise wore off. We'll see how you do this time."

Kim and Ron didn't waste time with banter. Both fired their wrist grapples at the birdman. While Kim's metallic claw flew straight at the villain, forcing him to dodge, Ron's was slightly off target. Aviarius didn't realize that it was a feint; Ron's claw gripped one of the rafters and the boy triggered the retracting function, pulling him up to Aviarius' level. The bird-obsessed madman suddenly found Ron on another rafter, only a few feet away.

"Take down Aviarius," Kim yelled to her BFBF. "I'm freeing Du." Kim ran towards the bound agent.

Aviarius scrambled back as Ron leapt across the open space. He threw a hummingbird shaped dart at the boy, but Ron deflected it with the hard metal of his wrist grapple. Ron slid forward on the rafter, closing with Aviarius when he heard…

"Ronald, I was hoping you would see fit to join us," the cultured voice both frightened Ron and filled him with rage. He leapt to another rafter, barely avoiding Monkeyfist, who had been hiding up higher, in one of the ceiling vents.

"Agent Jones!" Kim snapped into her Kimmunicator. "Monkeyfist is in here!"

"We're coming in," Jones' response sounded over the Kimmunicator.

"Now, now," Aviarius chided. "We can't have these interruptions, can we? Meet the flamingo of doom!"

The tarp, which had blocked off half of the building, was torn from its supports when a giant, robotic flamingo lumbered through it. The ground shook under the construct's unsteady stride. The thing's head was barely under the level of the rafters, more than twenty feet in the air.

"You've GOT to be kidding me," Kim muttered, still working to free the trapped Will Du. She cut the last rope, grabbed the agent, and pulled him from his seat just as one of the robot's feet crushed the chair. She gave the dazed man a shove towards the bay door opening even as the handful of agents, which made up the support team, rushed inside.

"Get Du out of here!" Kim screamed at the agents. "Then get outside yourselves!" Kim barely dodged another giant foot. "We need maneuvering room to fight this thing!"

As surprising as an objective bystander would find it, an agency that considered Will Du its number one operative did have competent agents. Two of the support team seized their comrade and hustled him outside while the remaining three helped Kim keep the robot distracted. The over sized construct stomped, scratched, and pecked at the dodging humans, nearly catching someone on more than one occasion. Kim took her own advice, retreating outside the building and past the item. She barely had time for a quick glance into the rafters, to see how Ron was faring against Fisk.

Ron's quick retreat, in the face of Monty's surprise attack, had given the boy time to get set for the villain's next assault. As he watched Monty gather himself to spring to Ron's rafter, Ron started to concentrate on his wrist grapple, then looked down at the GJ team and realized that there were just too many witnesses present. Monty sprang to his rafter, several feet away from him, and Ron shuffled along the eight-inch wide beam to meet his nemesis as Kim led the robot outside.

The boy met the villain head-on, blocking a front, snap kick from his longer-legged opponent before sliding forward and launching his own assault. Ron threw a left-right punch combination followed by a front knee strike. Monty hopped back, then turned a graceful, backward somersault on the narrow surface. Ron kept close to him, robbing his opponent of his range advantage. The two exchanged a flurry of straight punches, elbows and knees. Ron took a couple of his but he had delivered several more and was getting the better of this encounter. He risked a quick glance towards Aviarius.

The birdbrain was perched, several rafters away, watching Ron fight Monty and holding up his staff. He would occasionally glance out bay door opening, to where Kim and the GJ team were probably fighting his giant robot. Ron couldn't understand the villain's inactivity; while he was getting the better of Monty, Aviarius's assistance would probably turn the tables. Ron snapped his attention back to his opponent as Monty went back on the offensive.

"You have improved greatly, Ronald," Monty commented, unleashing a series of front snap kicks. "You are indeed a worthy adversary."

Ron was forced backwards. Although he blocked the kicks, inflicting painful bruises on his tormentor's shins in the process, Monty's long legs gave him a reach advantage. Ron was ready to block Monty's next kick up, then slide in underneath in and strike at Monty's supporting knee, when the villain surprised him with a roundhouse kick.

Balanced on a narrow beam, Ron had limited himself to straight-forward techniques, like punches and front snap kicks. Although Mr. Barkin wanted him to do better in physics, Ron understood the principle of each action having an equal but opposite reaction. Ron also understood the real-world application: throw an outside technique, like a roundhouse kick or a ridge-hand strike, and you stood a good chance of knocking your opponent off of the narrow perch in one direction, and yourself in the other. Ron hadn't been able to dodge Monty's kick so he blocked it and found himself struggling to keep his balance. As he windmilled his arms, he looked at his opponent expecting to see Monty doing the same. Instead, the villain was fully in balance and preparing to deliver a devastating strike against his flailing opponent.

Suddenly, Ron understood. While he, Ron Stoppable, was limited to keeping his weight centered over the rafter, Monty was able to grasp the rafter with his feet. Thus, the altered villain could throw an outside strike, like a roundhouse, without knocking himself into space. Realizing that he was at a disadvantage on the rafter, Ron performed a Kim-like maneuver. He quit flailing his arms and allowed himself to fall off to the side of the rafter, even as Monty's fist flew through the space Ron's head had just vacated. Once perpendicular to the rafter, he kicked off, giving himself some horizontal speed to work with. Ron fired his wrist-grapple and caught another rafter to his right. The boy pulled hard on his cable, changing his direction from a straight line to an arc. It was wise he did so, as Monty leapt at the boy and barely missed him.

Ron's actions had given his body a spiraling motion to the ground. He deactivated the claw and activated the grapple's retractor as he tumbled off the velocity, ending on his feet near the 'item' in the bed. Ron got his first, close look at the patient and he was so shocked that he almost missed the fact that Monty had encountered a wall, has sprung off of it, and was now flying towards him again. As it was, Ron barely dodged the oncoming madman. Both combatants squared themselves and continued their struggle.

Monty came forward with another roundhouse. Ron wasn't content to simply block this strike; he blocked it upwards then dropped down and swept Monty's support foot out from under him. The villain dropped flat to his back then was forced to roll quickly away, barely avoiding a series of foot stomps. Monty regained his feet, taking a hard blow to the ribs, and tumbled away from his antagonist. Ron didn't pursue, staying close to the patient in case Aviarius decided to move in. Monty, snarling in rage, charged Ron once again and Ron did something out of character.

Ron's Yamanouchi trainers had instilled a very 'blue collar' approach towards fighting into him. Foremost were three rules. The first rule was 'Always maintain contact with the ground.' Of course, 'ground' wasn't the proper term. The idea was to always keep at least one foot on the surface that was supporting you. The second rule was 'Never turn your back to an opponent.' While Kim had the speed and agility to pull off spinning kicks and fists, Ron was better served grinding away at his opponents. The third rule was 'Never throw a single strike.' By throwing combinations, Ron made it difficult for opponents to block all of his strikes. Of course, his instructors had also told him that he would have to break these rules, from time to time. One time had been when he leapt from the rafters and right now was another time.

Monty had thrown himself at the teen, coming completely off of the ground and thus unable to alter his direction. Ron slid to one side and broke the second rule by turning his back too throw a spinning back fist. He broke the third rule by throwing only the single technique. Finally, he didn't land the blow as he had been taught. Instead of his fist striking Fisk, the hard metal of his wrist grapple caught the villain between his upper lip and his nose.

Ron felt the impact shoot up his arm and Monkeyfist did a three-quarters gainer, landing on his face at Ron's feet. Ron had clearly seen at least two teeth fly through the air. Ron didn't waste time, but jumped on top of his stunned opponent, grappling him and applying a carotid artery choke. His efforts to render his opponent completely unconscious were interrupted by Aviarius.

"I've got what we need," the birdbrain hollered at his partner. "It's time to get out of here!" The man punched another button on his staff.

As if in answer to Aviarius's actions, a loud, low rumble sounded from the darkened half of the building, from where the robot flamingo had emerged. This rumble was quickly accompanied by a number of higher, whining, engine sounds. Ron took one look at what was emerging from the structure this time, jumped off of Monty and ran for his life.

* * *

Kim was desperate to get back into the shed. She and Ron were a team, so they shouldn't split up like this. Still, she knew that Du and the GJ support team weren't a match for this giant robot so she had to hope that Ron could hold up against Fisk and Aviarius until she could disable the robot and return to his side. She kept in front of the terror, dodging it and observing its movements. After several minutes of evasive maneuvers, she noticed that the construct always stepped forward, attempting to stomp on her with the moving foot, then attempted to snap at her with its beak. It would then step with the other foot and repeat the procedure. Its head and lead foot were close each time it did so.

Kim reacted quickly upon realizing this. She fired her grapple, catching the foot that was trying to step on her. She hopped back, just out of the foot's path then jumped up, towards the descending head, with a slight twist to her body. She barely avoided the snapping beak and flipped herself over the head, still trailing cable from her grapple. As soon has her feet hit the ground, she jumped to the foot that she had entangled earlier and secured her grapple to the foot, praying that Wade's cable was strong enough for her plan.

It turned out that the cable was strong enough. The robot, with one foot effectively tied to its head, was off balance. The huge construct fell to the ground and the GJ support team swarmed towards it. The agents volley-fired their shocker watches at the creature's head, then all discharged the devices at the same time. Electricity arced around the giant bird and it lay still.

"No casualties, Miss Possible," Agent Jones reported to her. "Let's go assist your partner."

The team had just formed up, with Kim leading, when Ron appeared, sprinting out of the shed. Kim barely had time to note his expression of terror before the explosions started. Kim suddenly became aware that Ron was being pursued by some sort of rocket-propelled, falcon-shaped missiles. He was keeping in front of the explosions, but the devices were getting closer. The team scattered and Kim tackled Ron, knocking them both behind the giant Flamingo. The remaining falcons exploded against the robots metallic hide. Kim and Ron, although dazed, were unharmed.

A low, rumbling roar sounded from the shed as a large, vulture-shaped aircraft emerged. Aviarius sat in the open cockpit, next to a still-stunned Monkeyfist.

"We'll meet again, ground-pounders," the bird-obsessed villain yelled at them. A clear shield rose up around the passenger compartment as the aircraft roared off, keeping low to the ground.

Agent Jones ran to the equipment shed as Kim questioned Ron about any possible injuries.

"They got away with the item," the agent reported when he returned.

"Doctor Director isn't going to be happy," Du added, stumbling up to Team Possible.

"That's not the worst part," Ron interrupted. "The so-called 'item' was Shego!"

Before Kim could digest this latest tidbit, Ron got a dazed, far-away expression on his face. Kim grabbed him, and noticing that the GJ team was discussing the fallout from the botched mission, pulled him away to where they could speak with privacy.

"Ron," she asked in a desperate whisper. "What's wrong?"

"It's Amy," he answered, shaking his head to regain focus. "She's doing it again."

* * *

_A/N" Yet another chapter. I'd like to thank everyone who has left a review, or has PM'd with ideas, predictions, and suggestions. The story has been a great deal of fun to write. I hope you enjoy reading, and continue the reviews and commenting that give me more ideas than my not-so-sharp mind can generate on its own. _

_Finally, as always, my biggest thanks go to Joe Stoppinghem, for his Beta Reading and pre-review services. _

_Till next time, best wishes_

_daccu65_


	17. Awakenings

Chapter 17: Awakenings

Awareness returned slowly to her, slowly and painfully. The last coherent thought she could recall was blacking out after being shot in prison. Since then, the memories were fragmented and disjointed. She didn't have any idea how much time had passed or where she was.

Shego was, however, a professional paranoid. She kept her body still and her eyes closed while she took stock on herself and her surroundings. First, she determined that she was resting in a comfortable bed and she wasn't confined. Secondly, she realized that she was still injured but she was probably capable of walking. Finally, she realized that she could hear voices, not far away, but like they were on the other side of a wall or door. Needing to know more, she opened her eyes a cautious sliver.

She quickly deduced that she was alone in the room. The room looked like a modest bedroom. There was no medical, monitoring equipment, just a nightstand with a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin. The window, whose curtains were drawn against what appeared to be sunlight, didn't seem to have bars. There were only two doors; one had light coming from underneath it and the voices coming through it. She assumed that the other door led to a closet. Both her belly and her shoulder were hurting, but she decided to keep away from the aspirin, if it really **was** aspirin, and listen in to the conversation for a short time.

"So, how long will you require for your preparations?" The voice was calm and cultured. It sounded vaguely familiar to Shego but before she could track down the name…

"I can't say for sure," this voice was much less pleasant. It gave Shego simultaneous feelings of rage and terror. "I designed my staff to acquire Team Go's powers. I'll probably need to make major alterations to get this monkey stuff you're talking about."

"I was expecting an answer with a time frame," the first voice had a somewhat harder edge.

"That's because I've spent my time studying Team Go's powers. I know that I can take it from Stoppable, but it's going to take time. I've done the first part, I've scanned him. Now I've got to first reconfigure the staff back to 'acquire' mode, then configure it for Stoppable's unique….frequency."

"Again, old boy, I'm looking for a time frame." Shego finally decided that the first voice had to be Monkeyfist.

"At least two weeks," the second voice snapped. "Probably a lot longer, something like a few months."

There was a long silence.

"Very well. I don't think that you're dragging your feet on this."

"Of course not! I'd like to remind you that I've sacrificed a lot of expensive hardware on this little venture. My falcon missiles don't come cheap and my giant flamingo took me years to build."

Falcon missiles and a giant flamingo? The only one Shego knew who could be that whack was…Aviarius! Shego struggled down twin urges to burst through the door and incinerate the man and to crawl out of the window and flee. Instead, she chose to continue to listen.

"Quite right, quite right, my apologies. You have, indeed, invested yourself into our common venture."

"I'm actually looking out for my own self interest," Aviarius admitted. "It's now common knowledge that this staff can take Team Go's powers. I've also been forced out of my main nest. I'm going to need help when I move against Team Go."

"The best sort of agreement between those such as us," Fisk declared "After all, neither of us is what you could call trustworthy. Common benefit is a good way to keep us working towards a common goal."

"I like the way you think," Avairius chuckled. "So, what say I head to my own safe house? You've got contact information, so we can keep in touch. I'll be more efficient with my own equipment."

"Fair enough, old boy. Please keep me updated."

"Of course. Oh, by the way, when can I begin taking my payment? I can return when I get the staff reconfigured."

"I'm afraid that's out of the question," Monkeyfist contradicted the man who was, apparently, his partner. "It's a question of manners."

"What? We had a deal! You get the kid's monkey power and I get Team Go's powers. Besides, having her strength and plasma powers will make me more capable of helping you."

"I understand, but there's three problems with that. First, our agreement was for you to gain Team Go's powers **after** I acquired my Mystical Monkey Power. Secondly, Shego is not a member of Team Go and thus, I have no obligation to assist you in gaining her power. Finally, Shego is now a guest in this house. As I am the head of this house, it's my honor to keep her from harm."

Aviarius grumbled something that Shego couldn't comprehend.

"Don't worry, old boy," Monkeyfist declared. "Once I gain the Mystical Monkey Power, I will assist you in gaining those powers currently held by Hego, Mego and the Wego. Shego will not stay here forever; once she leaves here, I don't care what she, or you, do. With Team Go's powers, you will be able to locate her and relive her of her own powers easily enough."

"I guess you're right," Aviarius conceded. "I'll keep you updated."

"Pleasant journeys," the nobleman offered the birdman.

Shego heard a front door close, then a light tread approaching her door. Deciding that discretion was the better part of valor, at least while she was still injured, she pretended to be asleep. She was truly shocked when she heard a polite knock on her door.

"Huh, wha?" She murmured, playing the part of a dazed person just being awoken.

"May I come in?" Fisk's voice was as cultured as always. "I believe that you will have a great number of questions."

"Yeah, come in."

There was a slight hesitation before the door opened. Fisk walked in carrying a tea service, and some other culinary items, on a tray. Shego noticed that his face was bruised and swollen.

"Since I know Americans tend to prefer coffee to tea," the nobleman stated, setting the tray on her bed; it had legs that fit the bed's frame. "I took the liberty of preparing both. I've also presumed that you may be hungry, so I prepared some soup." Shego hadn't realized that she was hungry until Fisk mentioned it, then the smell of tomato soup set her mouth to watering. Still, she resisted consuming anything until she had some answers.

"What's going on, Monty?" She asked. "And what happened to you?"

"I had a rather violent encounter with Team Possible," her host informed her. "As to what's going on, I believe that you will find the explanation rather tiresome, in your condition. In addition, I admit that I probably don't have all the answers you are seeking. Still, I will do my best. It occurs to me that you will be able to consume your meal while listening." Shego looked suspiciously at the meal he had prepared.

"I assure you, Shego? Or do you prefer Miss Go?"

"Shego."

"So be it. As I was saying, I can assure you that I have no ulterior motives towards your person," Monkeyfist informed her. "Had I wished to drug, or poison you, I could have done so while you were still incapacitated."

"So, give me the full story while you prove your trustworthiness," Shego requested, nodding to acknowledge his point. Privately, she really wanted to hear how his story to her matched the discussion she had overheard.

"Very well, my dear," the nobleman's face and voice showed some amusement. "I'll start with the 'where am I?' question. You are currently in the spare bedroom of DNAmy's safe house in rural Wyoming. She has been kind enough to give me the, how do you say it, the 'run of the place' while she's working on some endeavor, at an undisclosed location. I assure you that we are quite secure here. I will provide you with a complete tour of the facilities once you are feeling up to walking."

Shego nodded as she concentrated on sipping, not gulping, her soup. It wasn't that it was great soup, just that she was ravenously hungry. Shego had recovered from enough injuries to know that the easy to digest stuff, eaten slowly, was the best way to go. Monty probably knew this as well.

"The next question is probably 'Why did you rescue me from the authorities?'" Fisk continued, prompting another nod from Shego. "You may be either relieved or insulted to hear this, but I rescued you from the authorities in order to prompt a confrontation with Team Possible and I brought you here in order to disguise my true motives. Right now, the various authorities are probably trying to guess what plot I have ongoing, that requires you. Hopefully, their speculation will lead them away from what I intend."

Shego stirred some cream and sugar into her coffee, and thought about that. She really didn't know whether to be insulted or relieved. She was all too aware that since Monty didn't have any plans that required her, she was more-or-less useless to him and therefore…

"You are probably now wondering about your status, since my plans don't require your presence," Monty went on. "I assure you that you are a welcome guest in this house, and that as long as you don't abuse the privilege, you are welcome to stay for as long as you wish. I have no doubt that you have your own safe houses and bolt holes to run to, whenever you wish."

"So what will I have to do to leave?" Shego demanded.

"You must simply let me know where you want to go," Monty answered her. "Of course, I would suggest you give yourself time to heal up before you do so."

"That's all?" Shego asked, incredulously, "you'll just send me on my merry way with no payback, no service, nothing?"

"Shego, I may be a criminal, but I am a proper host. While I admit that I abducted you as a decoy measure, you are my guest. As a proper host, I am obligated to provide you with food, shelter, and protection until such time as we agree it is time for you to leave. I'll admit that I would appreciate your assistance in my undertaking, but I will not demand it."

Shego mulled it over, then nodded again, "So, do you have any idea how badly I'm messed up?"

"I took the liberty of reviewing your medical records," Monty informed her. "When we pulled you from the medical center. You appear to have a couple of weeks, even with your increased healing rate, before you regain your full capabilities. You may feel up to walking a bit, later today. You will find clothing in this room. As I am a terrible judge of sizes, and styles, forgive me if you find everything loose fitting and bland."

"I think I can live with that," Shego almost laughed. While she was used to being treated with respect, as a capable mercenary, she wasn't used to being treated with proper courtesy. To bad Monkey boy planned on selling her out to Aviarius.

"By the way," she suddenly thought of something. "What do you mean by a medical center?"

"You were shuffled between medical facilities after you were shot," Monty informed her. "Do you remember much after your escape attempt?"

"It wasn't an escape attempt," Shego told him, surprising herself with no bitterness. "Some guards staged a set-up and tried to do the public a favor."

"Ah," Monty nodded. "So much for the guards' vaunted marksmanship. They only managed shoulder and abdominal wounds."

"Oh, their marksmanship was just fine," Shego countered. "If they made perfect head, or heart shots, there would have been questions about if I was really trying to escape. Nobody would have believed that they could have pulled off such perfect hits on a moving, evading super villain. No, they just underestimated my toughness."

"Not by much," Monty informed her, and Shego was forced to agree. "Anyway, your internal injuries have been treated. All that is left is for you to heal on your own. You were kept heavily sedated during your time outside of the detention center. Your records suggest that this sedation inhibited your healing. You will probably be uncomfortable without these sedatives, but you will probably heal more rapidly."

Shego nodded again. She had been in pain before and knew how to deal with it. This house would provide a safe port in the storm until she was back on her feet. Then, she had some decisions to make.

* * *

Kim woke up slowly, confused by her familiarly strange surroundings. She was able to recognize the Stoppables' living room fairly easy, but she couldn't reconcile her location with waking up in it. Before moving, or even looking around, she forced her tired brain to recall how she wound up here.

She recalled the botched mission to recover the 'item,' which turned out to be Shego. They had to wait for over an hour for a GJ hoverjet to pick them up; time spent with Du commenting about how the 'amateurs' had let the three villains escape. She was ready to punch the smug agent when their transportation arrived. Surprisingly, Will Du received orders to travel with the teens.

Du had kept his mouth shut during the trip. He had caught the look in Kim's eye, and had figured out that a couple more 'amateur' remarks would probably earn him a quick punch in the face. The teens received another surprise when the aircraft didn't take them home, but to a Global Justice hangar facility just outside of Middleton. The three had no sooner stepped off of the aircraft, than the ground dropped out from underneath them, dumping them into a vacuum tube that deposited them in a briefing room. (What did GJ have against stairs or elevators?)

Minutes after they had wound up in the room, Dr. Director strode in and demanded explanations. Du had, of course claimed that he was following procedures 'by the book,' and that the fiasco had been caused by inserting amateurs into one of his missions. Director gave him a severe dressing down, then spent a long time questioning the teens about Aviarius's and Fisk's actions. Two intelligence experts appeared to ask additional questions, but nobody could come up with a good motive for what Fisk had done. Finally, at about four in the morning, Dr. Director ordered a GJ ground car to take the teens home.

They had reached Ron's house when the car was recalled to GJ headquarters. Kim had assured the driver that she could make it the rest of the way home. However, since there was a light on in the Stoppable house, she stepped inside with Ron. It turned out that Hanna, being in the house for the first time, was a little restive. Mrs. Stoppable was awake, rocking Hanna to sleep. Rather than sending Kim on her way home, Ron's mom had pulled open the hide-a-bed and had thrown a sleeping bag on the mattress, so that Kim could get some sleep. She had flopped down next to Ron and had…Ron?

As awareness crept into Kim's mind, she realized that Ron was sleeping next to her. Her head was resting on his right shoulder, and his right arm was wrapped around her. His hand was resting on her bare midriff, covered with both of hers. She felt, for the lack of a better term, comfortable and content. They hadn't done anything during the night, they hadn't even made out, but Kim felt…good. Somehow, just a few hours of sleep, cuddled up with her BFBF, had rejuvenated her as much as a full night's rest.

She looked around and saw Mrs. Stoppable, holding Hanna, sitting on a nearby chair. Ron's mother gave her a knowing grin that made the teen blush.

"Good morning, Kimberly," the older woman greeted her son's girlfriend. "Could you hold Hanna for a few minutes? I want to get breakfast started."

"Of course, Mrs. Stoppable," Kim whispered back. The teen started to get up but Mrs. Stoppable walked over and handed over the infant, while Kim was just sitting up.

"Huh, wazzup?" Ron murmured, sleepily. A cruel grin suddenly burst on Kim's face.

"Nothing honey," she answered, with a wink at Mrs. Stoppable. "The baby was a little restive, so I brought her to bed with us."

"Uh, okay," Ron muttered, and settled back down to sleep. Kim silently counted backwards: four, three, two, one….

"WHAT!!" Ron suddenly shot straight up. The first sight to greet him was Kim, in bed with him, holding a baby. His expression took on equal aspects of confusion and panic. He looked around, obviously trying to reconcile the sleeping arrangements with the fact that he was in his parents' house. He almost jumped out of bed when he saw his mother looking at him. Finally, he started to recall recent events and calmed down.

"Very funny," he grumbled, to Kim's and his mother's increased amusement.

Jean Stoppable giggled as she left for the kitchen. Ron, more fully awake than if he had swallowed a double-espresso, glared at his laughing girlfriend. Even Hanna seemed amused by the activities. Ron decided that the prospect of dealing with three, amused females, first thing in the morning was a strong argument for perpetual bachelorhood. Then Kim leaned over for her good morning kiss and gave him an even stronger argument against it.

"How are you feeling?" Kim asked him.

"A little sore," he replied. "And not wanting to get up, for several reasons. How about you?"

"Exactly the same," she answered, with a very warm smile. "But I've got to get moving anyway. Here," she handed Hanna to him, "I call dibs on the shower."

Kim kept spare clothing at the Stoppables', much like Ron kept spare clothing at her home. It wasn't many minutes later that a freshly showered Kim walked back into the living room. She found her BFBF still sprawled out on the bed, with Hanna sitting on his stomach. He was flexing his stomach, bouncing the little girl, much to her amusement. Kim just stood there for a few minutes, smiling at the scene. All too soon, Hanna noticed her and made a half-coo, half squeak which caused Ron to follow her gaze. Kim soon found herself holding the child while Ron showered.

Finally, Kim and the Stoppables were all cleaned, fed, and ready for the day. Mr. Stoppable left for work and the teens volunteered to look after Hanna, giving Mrs. Stoppable a chance to nap after a long night. The three sat on a blanket in the back yard, which gave Kim and Ron some privacy to call Wade and discuss events.

"I don't understand it," the young genius declared. "Why would Monkeyfist and Aviarius risk capture in order to grab Shego?"

"Am I missing something here?" Ron asked, "I mean, she's about the toughest villain out there. If I was up to something, I'd sure want her on my side."

"I can't picture Shego working with Aviarius," Wade countered. "She spent over two years, as a member of Team Go, fighting him."

"They **are** both bad guys now," Ron pointed out, bouncing Hanna on one of his feet.

"True," Kim conceded. "But that doesn't mean she's going to work with him. You know her, can you picture her just giving up a grudge?"

"Good point," Ron agreed.

"Maybe it has something to do with the staff," Kim mused.

"The staff was configured to steal Hego's super strength," Wade agreed. "Since Shego received her powers from the same comet, it might work on her, as well."

"It still doesn't make sense," Kim jumped in. "He was able to just zap Hego with it when we were in Minnesota. He could have zapped her at any time. They didn't need to take her with them."

"That's assuming that he hadn't already zapped her by the time you guys arrived," Wade pointed out. "But then again, it still doesn't explain why they took her with them."

"Maybe it's deception," Ron suggested. "Maybe he already zapped her, has her powers, but doesn't want anybody to realize that he does."

"That's possible, as well," Wade agreed. "But it doesn't explain why Monkeyfist is helping him. I don't picture that guy doing favors for Aviarius. They have to both be benefiting from what's going on."

"Maybe Monty's just trying to throw a team together," Ron suggested. "You know, find whomever he can and hope that he can get them to work together."

"But that puts us back to wondering if she'll work with Aviarius," Wade countered. "I think that this discussion is going in circles."

"We're also leaving out DNAmy," Kim added. "Where does she fit into all this?"

"Maybe Amy wants some Team Go DNA, and is paying Aviarius to help Monty obtain it," Ron suggested.

Team Possible continued to discus the situation for another half-hour. At the end of the conversation, they had to admit that they still couldn't guess why Monkeyfist and Aviarius took Shego. Finally, Wade signed off and the two teens were able to discuss Ron's latest monkey experience.

"It was Amy again," he told Kim. The blonde teen got onto hands and knees and crawled after Hanna, who was determined to explore the back yard.

"You already told me that," Kim reminded him, with a smile for how he was carrying on around his sister. "Did you get anything else; anything useful?'

"No," Ron shook his head. "I do know that both monkeys were crippled. In both cases, I received memories of begging humans for food. I'd guess that some people fed them out of pity. They really didn't understand why they were taken."

"Have you heard from the first monkey?"

"No, not a peep. I don't know if that means he's dead, the changes DNAmy made have stripped him of his monkeyhood, or if he just hasn't been traumatized enough to make that…monkey scream thingy."

"Monkeyhood?" Kim smiled at her BFBF.

"I seem to recall discussing the limitations of my grammar the last time this happened," Ron reminded her.

"Okay, it's probably as good a word as any," Kim shook her head. "How about that female monkey, does she have any info?"

"I tried to get in touch with her last night," Ron informed Kim. "Her band hasn't come across any stray, wandering monkeys and they haven't lost any of the band in the last couple weeks, so she isn't much help."

"So what you're saying is we suspect that DNAmy's somewhere in Central or South America, doing experiments on monkeys."

"That's about it," Ron admitted. "I don't know how, or if, it ties into what Monty's doing."

"So we can't do much about her, either," Kim concluded.

"Yeah, and the summer's almost over," Ron pointed out. "In two more weeks, I start football and you start cheerleading. Two weeks after that, classes start and we're back to interrupting classes to track them down."

"Yeah, but it's been a good summer," Kim pointed out, with a smile.

"The best one I can remember," Ron agreed.

"But there's been one big problem," Kim declared. "You, my boyfriend, have been springing for all of our dates. Now, I talked to your mom and while she appreciates you offering to pitch in and help with Hanna, she's decided that you get this Saturday night off. My mom has let me borrow her van for that night. Be ready at eight, and I'm going to treat you to a date night."

"I can't wait."

* * *

He woke up slowly, reluctantly, to a feeling of sorrow and loss. These were odd sensations for a self-proclaimed super genius, but Dr. Drakken had been feeling these emotions ever since he had been informed that Shego had been shot trying to escape. Someone with his level of intellect should be concerned with how he was going to escape his current hardships. Instead, he found himself genuinely concerned for her well being.

He sat up in his bunk, slumped his shoulders and sighed. Introspection was painful for him, but he found himself doing more and more of it. Where had he gone wrong? He was a brilliant scientist! Sure, he was a little eccentric; okay he was **very** eccentric, but that didn't make him an idiot. He made things that did what they were supposed to do, for the most part. So why was he sitting, depressed, in a prison cell hoping he could avoid Old Sparky?

He thought of his college chums: James, Bob and…what was his name again? Oh, yes; Ramesh. He had never been able to pronounce the man's first name. All of them had lucrative, fulfilling careers. None of the three was more brilliant than he, so why were they successful and happy while he was…where he was? It wasn't just the career choices that had Drakken performing a depressing introspection. His three former friends had managed to remain friends with each other. James, in particular, had a loving, beautiful wife and a wonderful family. Drakken, on the other hand, felt close to almost nobody.

Shego had been more than an employee, Drakken truly liked her and respected her and he suspected that she felt much the same towards him. They had no romantic interest in each other, Bortel's Moodulators and several rumors to the contrary. While Drakken acknowledged that she was a stunningly attractive young woman, their relationship had remained comfortably platonic. Truth be told, Drakken hadn't ever felt much in the way of romantic stirrings for anybody, which might have had something to do with why he was alone right now.

Other than Shego, Drakken's circle of friends had been decidedly thin in recent years. He remained fond, in a distant sort of way, to his overbearing mother. He and Ed shared a certain, familial affection for each other. There were other techno-villains, such as Dementor and the Mathter, with whom he shared a friendly rivalry, but he couldn't consider any of them friends. No, his only true friend was Shego.

"_Wherever you are_," he thought. "_I hope you recover. I hope you recover and find some way to live a happy, fulfilling life."_

A guard opened his cell door and Drakken lurched to his feet, shuffling off to his weekly meeting with his lawyer.

_A/N: Again, thanks for all of the supportive reviews! Hopefully, I'll be getting back to some action and comedy in the upcoming chapters. _

_As always, a big thank you to Joe Stoppinghem, for Beta reading. _

_Until the next update, best wishes._

_daccu65_


	18. Summer's End

Chapter 18: Summer's End

Kim flipped her sweat-dampened hair out of her face and wondered about how she should be feeling right now. She knew that this was bound to happen sooner or later; he was a boy and she was a girl. Their active, intense life made this, for all practical purposes, inevitable. Still, she couldn't help but think that something precious to her, one of the last, tiny motes of her childhood, was now gone forever. Looking at Ron, who was still on his back, drenched in sweat and wearing an expression of joyful accomplishment, she wasn't about to feel bad, but maybe nostalgic. She smiled at her BFBF as he sat up to the applause of both his and her teammates, having just out bench-pressed Kim.

Since before Kim's freshman year, Coach Barkin had brought the football team in to compare bench-press maximums against the cheerleaders. He would then have each player, and cheerleader, calculate their strength to weight ratio. The main reason was to break down his players' excessive pride, by showing that the cheerleaders were stronger, pound for pound, than they were. Kim had always had the best strength to weight ratio, counting both cheerleaders and football players. She had always out lifted half of the football players, as well. It looked like she would manage both feats again this year, but she hadn't expected her BFBF to be one of the football players to posses more brute strength than she did.

She watched as Ron went to the blackboard to calculate his own ratio. Kim had already done it in her head and realized that she was still much stronger, pound for pound, than him. Still it irked her, just a little, that he had managed to beef up so much in the last year. She reprimanded herself for that thought, reflecting that most of the villains she fought also had a brute strength advantage on her. Shego, Motor Ed, Duff Killigan, and most of Drakken and Dementor's henchmen were stronger than she was; yet she routinely beat them. She was also, still superior to Ron when it came to a scuffle. However, she was slightly tweaked that he had managed that feat.

She shook her head as Ron completed his calculation. She reminded herself that she should really be happy for him, and proud of the fact that he was working this hard to help her. She knew that she would be able to accept the sitch, after a little time to come to terms with it. Ron gave her an almost embarrassed look as he wrote his ratio and name on a piece of tape. He then stuck the tape on a board that Coach Barkin had set up to keep track of the ratios, in descending order. Kim was impressed. Of the football players, only Oscar had a better strength to weight ratio than Ron did.

"Okay, Mad dogs," Barkin snapped at his players. "As you can see from this board, and your own calculations, every last one of these ladies is stronger than every last one of you, pound for pound. Since you obviously aren't going to overpower your opponents, we better get ready to outlast them. I want every last one of you to complete four laps around the track before I get back to the field. NOW MOVE IT!"

The football players scrambled out of the gym. The players who had been on the team last year knew the drill, it happened every time. The new players, like Ron, looked ashamed and scared, determined to put in the laps in record time. Coach Barkin talked to the cheerleading squad for a few minutes, thanking and complimenting them for their efforts. He then went to his office to do some paperwork before heading back down to the field. He would give his players just enough time to complete their laps before he arrived, if they hustled.

"Gee, now that our best player has graduated and moved on, what's the team going to do?" Bonnie asked the air, after the team and Coach Barkin had left. "I mean, what kind of season is it going to be if the low budget import's at the top of the heap at the end of this little contest?"

Bonnie delivered her last comment with a pointed, smug look at Cindy. Cindy, of course, immediately came off of the bleachers and moved to get in Bonnie's face. Tara, Liz, Jessica, and Crystal jumped up and pulled Bonnie away from Cindy while Ruth and Julie moved in to calm down Cindy.

"Just what's your problem with me and my boyfriend?" The brunette, former cross-country runner snapped at the Queen B. You never had much to say about either him or me until we started dating. Suddenly, he's low budget and imported and I'm slumming by being with him."

"Problem?" Bonnie asked back, with a massive look of false innocence. "What makes you think I have a problem? If you want to spend your time with the lowlifes, that's your business. I just hope everyone here keeps that in mind when we choose the squad."

"Lowli…" Cindy was actually an accomplished writer, not accomplished at arguing. She quickly sputtered into incoherence.

"Bonnie!" Tara snapped at her friend. "Oscar's a good guy!"

"He's dirt poor, has no style, and thinks that rolling on a mat makes him something," Bonnie snapped back. "Now if she," a chin gesture at Cindy, "makes our squad, she's going to bring us all down."

"ENOUGH!" Kim snapped. "I'm going to remind everybody here, especially Bonnie, about what we went through after a little lunchroom incident last year. That rule is still in effect. Bonnie, Oscar is a member of a Middleton High athletic team, which means if you start making these insulting remarks you're off this squad."

"You aren't going to win the regionals without me," Bonnie retorted. "Hope and Marcella were good. Replacing two cheerleaders is going to be hard enough. If you have to replace three, you can kiss that trophy goodbye."

"I can live without another trophy," the usually quiet Crystal chimed in.

"I agree," Kim growled, eliciting wide eyes from everyone else. Kim Possible, willing to **not** be the absolute best?

"Winnings not worth it," Kim locked eyes with her rival. "You're welcome to whatever opinion you want, Bonnie, but you're not welcome to cut down another student. Just like using the term 'Loser' last year. You keep using the term 'Low budget import' and you're going to find yourself looking for a new extracurric. Not to mention, cheerleading is giving you your gym credit. If you're off the team, you're back in gym class."

Bonnie was actually struck speechless; but only for a moment or two.

'You really seem willing to use your position as captain to help out your friends," she snapped at Kim. "I hope that everyone here remembers that when it comes time to choose the next captain. Cross Possible and you're off the squad."

With that, the tall brunette spun around and stormed off to the dressing room. The rest of the girls just looked at each other.

"Kim," Cindy spoke up. "Maybe I'd better quit. If I make the squad, it's only going to cause more tension. Bonnie obviously has a burr up her butt about Oscar, and I'm not about to break up with him for her sake."

"No way!" Liz jumped in, before Kim could speak. "We went through this before, with Ron. Bonnie had it in for him and none of us said, or did, anything to stop it. She told us not to talk to him outside of practice and we listened to her. We treated him like dirt, then we were actually surprised when he left the squad. We're not doing that again. If you make the squad, you make if fair and square and we all deal with Bonnie."

"She's right" Kim backed up Liz. "Tara, Bonnie, Mrs. Johnson and I are going to be doing the evaluations next Friday. If you impress everybody, you're on the squad no matter what Bonnie has to say about your BF."

* * *

Steve Barkin, or Coach Barkin at the moment, was a happy man. Although he had lost his best player to graduation, he had a solid base to work from for this year. First, both lines returned half of their starters and the second string players who were returning had been almost as good as those who had graduated. All told, his lines, the core of his team, were going to be better than last year.

He was also looking good in the defensive secondary and in receivers. The questions he had were in his backfield, but the answers looked to be pretty good. First, Flagg's backup at quarterback was solid and he was back for one more year. Then there was Stoppable.

Barkin had to smile when thinking about his student nemesis. The kid had definitely came to play the game. Sure, he was raw but he had some real talent. His speed was incredible and his conditioning was unreal. At first, Barkin had planned on making him a receiver but scrimmages had taught him that the kid just wasn't cut out for it. Sure, he was fast and had good hands but he couldn't recognize a blitz and play the part of the hot receiver. He also tended to get a little too physical with the secondary when the ball was in the air. Barkin had played him at running back and the kid was natural, if a little undersized. He was strong for his size, had great reactions and ran 'broken-field' style almost instinctively.

Coach Barkin frowned, thinking of the fullback position, then smiled when he thought about Oscar Williamsen. Sure, he was a little undersized for the position, just like Stoppable, but he was quick enough to make up for it. As today's little session showed, the kid was incredibly strong for his size. In addition to this, he could keep his weight low and deliver devastating blocks. While he didn't have Stoppable's incredible speed, Barkin had never seen anybody quicker within ten yards. In addition to his strength, balance, and quickness, the kid had great hands. Barkin made up his mind; Williamsen would be his starting fullback and Stoppable would be his starting tailback. Then the big man thought about what he could do with his undersized, quick, and sure-handed backfield and his smile grew absolutely fiendish.

* * *

"I'd like to say that it's good to see you doing so much better, but I have to admit that I find your improved health somewhat painful."

Shego smiled at the comment. She really smiled, no smirk, no sarcastic sneer.

"I'd say we've put in enough for one day, Monty," she informed her host, and sparring partner.

The nobleman sprang lightly to his feet and offered her a formal bow, which she returned with no trace of her usual, condescending manner. With that, he spun on his heel and walked in the direction of the creek. Shego watched his retreating back, her thoughts in turmoil.

The couple of weeks that she had been his guest had been good to her. Her enhanced healing had taken care of her wounds within the first few days. Then, she had borrowed a car for a quick, discrete run across the border into South Dakota. She kept a stash of spare clothing, cosmetics, and disguises outside of Sturgis. (She attended the rally, incognito, whenever she had the chance.) Once she recovered her stash, she felt much more herself but she realized that her months of inactivity had taken a toll. Thus, she had started to spar with her host.

She hadn't taken the full walking tour of the facility, so she was in for a shock when Monty showed her his handiwork. About a quarter mile from the house, a small creek wound through a shallow draw and supported a stand of trees. Monty had cleared out a small area, just enough for an outdoor dojo. The overhanging branches sheltered them from both the hot sun and any aircraft that may be looking down upon them. Using the lumber he had cut to clear the dojo, he had constructed other workout equipment. Thus, the woods along the creek were lined with chin-up bars, blocking and striking blocks, and a fairly challenging obstacle course. As a result of Monty's hard work, Shego was getting the most intense workouts, outside of her clashes with the princess, of her life.

She had started out by running Monty's obstacle course and doing a few katas. With her enhanced healing, she was soon up to using the blocking and striking blocks. Earlier this week, she had started sparring with Monty.

At first, her host had been able to defeat her fairly easily, but her superb training and conditioning had kicked in. Over the course of two weeks, she had gone from getting clobbered to being clearly superior to him. All during this process, he had been a perfect gentleman; critiquing her technique, strength and stamina, calling a halt when she was close to collapsing, and offering words of encouragement. Even when she recovered her skill and capability, he had remained supportive, enduring the beatings and striving to improve himself. But then, the tremendous help he had provided getting her back in shape was only part of the reason she felt so awkward right now.

The two of them had been sharing the domestic chores. As a seasoned mercenary, Shego had no problem pitching in to keep the barracks, mess facilities, and her uniforms in good working order. The fact that her barracks was a small, yet comfortable bedroom, and her mess facility was a small, efficient kitchen didn't matter to her. This was her home, for now, and she wanted to keep it neat, tidy and in good repair. She also had to eat, so she helped her host with the cooking. For some reason, doing these domestic chores seemed to make her and her host more open with each other. They chatted about past endeavors, both successes and failures. They talked a little about their plans for the future and what they wanted to accomplish. Shego had expected this to be little more that passing time, something marginally more interesting than staring at the walls. Yet, she found herself intrigued by her host and he seemed interested in her, as well. The real kicker had been the 'cake incident,' last night.

Shego and Monty were both capable, but unimaginative in the kitchen. The food that they put on the table was hot, filling, repetitive and boring. In an effort to alleviate the culinary tedium, yesterday evening they had cracked open a cookbook and tried to bake a cake. Monty had dealt with the cake while she had made the icing. The entire undertaking had been an unprecedented disaster. They had persevered, with Monty covering himself with flour and Shego splattering icing over everything that didn't duck, herself included. In the end, they produced a cake that actually tasted good, but was about the saddest piece of dessert in the history of mankind. They had also spent the better part of an hour cleaning up the mess they had made. But it wasn't the outcome that had Shego feeling so out of sorts this morning. The two of them had laughed while making the cake.

While it might not sound like much, to people like her and Monty it was very significant. The laughter had been genuine; not haughty, superior disdain or nervous, appeasing laughter. They had both laughed when Monty's first attempt with the sifter had resulted in a thin layer of flour over the entire kitchen and its contents (humans included). They had laughed when Shego pulled the mixer, still running, out of the bowl of icing she had been making. They had laughed when Shego tried to frost the deformed lump of cake that Monty had finally produced. They had laughed when Shego's efforts only made it worse. They had laughed while they cleaned the kitchen, while they changed clothing, and when they returned to the kitchen and looked again upon the fruits of their labors. Heck, they had even laughed this morning, upon seeing what they hadn't eaten last night. Such carefree, real laughter was more precious than gold to someone in Shego's circumstances.

This contemplation brought her back to the here and now. There was no good reason to stay at this safe house. She had her own, extensive, network of homes, bolt holes and hidden resources. She was back in shape and was every bit as capable as when the Princess took her down during the Diablo Assault. The only thing that she hadn't tested was her plasma bolts, since Monty had pointed out that they interfere with electronics and if she caused enough interference, someone might come looking. In addition to these factors, she wasn't getting paid to just sit around. While Drakken was still guarded by the UN, and out of reach, there were countless criminal organizations that would welcome her with open arms, and wallets. No, there was no reason to stay here any longer.

Except that she didn't want to leave… _him_.

Shego stepped out of the dojo area and leaned against a tree, shaking her head. She had led a hard life, so feeling like a crushing schoolgirl just wasn't her thing. She was no innocent; the vacations she took, to either the Caribbean or the Mediterranean, weren't just for shopping and relaxing in the sun. She went on these vacations fully intending on relieving some 'biological tensions.' This thought brought her up short. Was that the issue? Drakken had kept her running, keeping his Diablo Plot on schedule, for almost a year before the disastrous assault, so she was well overdue for another bout of 'tension relief,' but she just didn't think this was the case.

If she just wanted to relieve some tension, no strings attached, she would just walk up and tell him. He had lived a similar, hard life, so she was pretty sure that he would be just as capable of doing the deed and getting back to business in the morning. Heck, if she felt awkward about him, she could just take the pickup for a quick run to the nearest roadhouse, about a half-hour away. There were plenty of lonely farmers and ranchers at such places and they treated ladies right, even when drunk. While she didn't have a massive selection, she had fit, young men available if she wanted. The fact that she wasn't taking advantage of the situation told her that she wasn't looking for something quick and one-time. This bothered her even more.

A mercenary's life didn't allow for long term commitments and Shego wasn't emotionally wired that way, anyway. Sure, she remembered her encounters; she even specifically looked for a couple of them during her vacations. She didn't mind having a 'second round' now and then, but she had never even considered putting off going back to work to extend her dalliances, until now. What was really weird was that Monty wasn't the type she usually pursued. She tended to like the big, buff, pretty boys. Monty was wiry and fit and while his features weren't ugly, they were more plain than handsome. Finally, he was a little older than her usual playmate. She didn't know exactly how old he was, but she knew he was at least ten years older than she was.

All told, Shego didn't know why she was…interested…in the man. Beyond that, she didn't know what to do about it anyway. Shego heaved a massive sigh and headed for the house to take a shower. She had read that the Princess was dating the Buffoon, and wondered if _she_ was having the same issues.

* * *

"The second step has been successful," Amy dictated into her recorder. "Both subjects appear to be in perfect health."

Amy looked into the pen, where the two, formerly crippled monkeys had been released to mingle with their fellow simians.

"Much like the first subject, these subjects appear to be trying to exert dominance upon other monkeys, even upon each other. This has led to a couple of fights, but they did not last very long. I suspect that both monkeys, having been disabled for so long, are flushed with their new, functional bodies. I will, however, continue to monitor these subjects."

"This success is sufficient to allow us to execute the ultimate goal of this program," she continued, walking towards her desk. "However, I will take this procedure beyond simple repair, to enhancement. By going this extra mile, I will assure myself that we are prepared to fulfill our end of the bargain, with no possibility of error. I shall immediately begin work morphing a spider monkey into a howler monkey."

Amy sent her file to her employer and began work on her next step. She would be able to initiate her procedure yet tonight.

'_Soon, Monty,'_ she thought. _'I'm almost ready. Soon the two of us can be together again.'_

* * *

"Mom, I'm heading over to Ron's," Kim called out as she walked to the front door. "I won't be late."

"Actually, Kimmie, I was thinking of going to the Stoppables' with you," her mother answered. "His parents are at home, aren't they?"

"Yes," Kim informed her. "It's not a date, mom, or anything like that. Ron asked me to check in on his 'big brothering' and while I've hung with him, and Hanna, nearly every day, I want to drop in unannounced, just to see how he's handling her when he doesn't expect me."

"Oh! Are you sure you won't be imposing on them?"

"No big," Kim answered. "I called his mom. His 'rents know I'm on the way but he doesn't."

"In that case, I think that I'll tag along and see the little bundle of joy for myself," Anne declared. "It's hard for me to believe that she's been there this long and I haven't even had a chance to see her."

With that, the two Possible women informed Mr. Dr. Possible where they were going, and decided that they would have a pleasant evening's walk to the Stoppables.

"So Kimmie," Anne asked her daughter as they walked. "Are you close to having another discussion with me about your boyfriend?"

"No," Kim answered, surprised that she wasn't blushing. "I mean, I want to but I don't think that it's the right time yet. I talked to Ron and he thinks the same thing."

"I bet the two of you take things right to the edge every once in a while, don't you?"

"Mom!" This time, Kim did start to blush.

"Oh, let your mother have a little fun," her mother smiled. "I'm actually impressed with you and Ronald. The two of you seem to have a much better grip on your feelings than I did when I first started to date."

"Uh, mom? I think we're heading into TMI territory here."

Anne Possible just giggled a little, happy that her daughter and Ronald had finally come to their senses and realized how right they were for each other.

* * *

Rufus slunk out of the nursery, having failed to locate his quarry inside. Tense, he edged towards his human's parents' room. The little mole rat sniffed the air, trying to track down his quarry. In a moment of lapsed concentration, he failed to check out the spare room. As he passed, a movement inside startled him. He took one look at the oncoming form and scampered for the stairs as fast as his little legs would carry him.

Jean Stoppable answered the doorbell. She expected to see Kim but she hadn't expected her son's girlfriend to be accompanied by…

"Anne," she exclaimed. "It's so nice to see you!"

"I hope I'm not imposing," Dr. Anne Possible shared a quick embrace with her friend. "But since Kim was coming over anyway I thought that this would be a good time to finally meet your new addition."

"Oh, it's no imposition at all," Jean Stoppable assured her, ushering the two redheads into the living room. "I'll let Ronald know that you're here."

"I'd like to check in on him myself, Mrs. Stoppable," Kim informed her BFBF's mother. "He asked me to make sure he was being a good big brother, so I wanted to catch him at an unguarded moment."

"Oh, that's fine," Mrs. Stoppable replied. "He's…"

Mrs. Stoppable was interrupted by a pounding noise from upstairs, moving from the spare room to the stairs. Within moments, Rufus scampered down the stairs as fast as a rodent could run. Kim, instinctively, dropped into a combat crouch as her BFBF's little buddy ran past her. Kim could have sworn that some of the little guy's chitters sounded like giggles. Rufus dove under the couch and Kim spun around, for pursuing the mole rat was….

Ron Stoppable came charging down the stairs on his hands and knees, Hanna stoppable riding him like he was a horse. The little girl was shrieking with laughter, with some of her shrieks sounding suspiciously like 'giddyap.' Ron didn't look to either side, but charged straight to the couch and slid to a stop.

"He gave us the slip, Han," he informed his sister. "But we'll catch him one of these times." Hanna's only answer was more giggles.

"Let's go hide again," he suggested to his passenger. The teenager turned around and started crawling back to the stairs. He looked up and suddenly saw…

"KP, Mrs. Dr. P," he stammered. "We were just, uh, playing around a little and…"

"I think your boyfriend's adjusting quite well to his new sister," Anne Possible informed her daughter.

"Those three carry on like that all the time," Jean Stoppable informed her guests, shaking her head in mock exasperation. "Of course, all of the activity makes little Hanna sleep better."

"Ronald," Anne Possible addressed the blushing young man. "I've walked all the way over here so that I can fuss over that child. Now come over here so that I can get a better look at her."

Ron followed his instructions, crawling over to his 'second mother' at a more sedate pace despite little Hanna's urgings to go faster. Mrs. Possible scooped the little girl off of his back and Ron got back to his feet.

"Now," Anne informed him. "I want to spend a little time talking to your mother and getting to know this little lady. I hope that you and Kim can _**entertain**_ each other while I'm doing this." Anne punctuated her statement with a very direct look at the two teens, which made her daughter's blush match Ron's.

Later that evening, Kim and Ron lay, side by side, on a blanket in the Stoppables' back yard, looking at the stars. Little Hanna Stoppable was lying on Ron's chest, fast asleep. The little girl had grown restive in Anne Possible's presence, not being familiar with Kim's mother. The teens had taken the baby with them, allowing Jean and Anne to start a conversation that was still going on.

"Well, I can safely say that you're adjusting well to being a big brother," Kim informed her BFBF, idly playing with his hair.

"Well, so far she's been a lot of fun, KP," Ron said. "But I don't know what it's going to be like when I need to baby sit when I want to do something else."

"You'll get used to it," Kim assured him. "Your 'rents have already promised to not let it get in the way of any of your school activities and I don't mind missing an occasional date because of this little cutie." Now Kim touched Hanna's dark, fine hair. "In fact, I don't mind being the copilot during the babysitting."

"Thanks KP," Ron smiled at his BFGF. "Have I told you how lucky I am to have you as a girlfriend? I mean, it's not just that you're so cool about Han. I'm sooooo lucky to be dating you! The fact that you're cool with Han is a great bonus and I'm so hap-" Kim's finger on his lips silenced him.

"First of all, yes you have told me how lucky you are," Kim purred at her boyfriend. "Secondly, we're both lucky to have something like this. Third thing, Hanna's a doll, so it's hard not to be cool about her and finally, she's really doing me a favor right now."

"What's that?" Ron looked confused.

"She has you completely immobilized."

Kim caught Ron's face in a gentle grip and brought her lips down to his. Holding his sister as he was, he could only kiss back. Kim took full advantage of the situation, letting one of her hands roam, just a little, and using her tongue to search for his. The two teens were really getting into the action, to the point that Kim was deciding if she could set Hanna off to the side and take her place when Ron's eyes snapped open.

Kim almost groaned at the far-away, frightened look. Hanna snapped awake and started to cry, only to quiet down in her brother's comforting embrace. Kim did her best to provide the same comforting hold for Ron.

"Is it…" She prompted him.

"DNAmy did it again," he confirmed.

_A/N: Again, I thank everyone who has taken the time to read this story. While I have tried to update twice a week, the mean cruel entity known as the real world has started to demand more and more of my attention. I'm probably going to have to drop back to one update a week soon. Please be patient._

_Thank you for your reviews, I really appreciate them._

_As always, my fondest thanks go to Joe Stoppinghem, for his ever-patiend beta services._

_Till next update, best wishes,_

_daccu65_


	19. New Beginnings

Chapter 19: New Beginnings

Ron Stoppable was on top of the world; all of his senior year dreams had come true. Okay, maybe not **all** of them; the streets weren't paved with nacos, the school day still started at 8:00 AM, rather than 2:00 PM, and, judging by his class schedule, Zombie Mayhem still wasn't an elective credit. Still, if anybody had told him, on the first day of his junior year, what his situation would be right now, he would have laughed.

First of all, not only was he a senior, he was a returning letterman! He actually had some status to throw around, if he chose to. Secondly, Mr. Barkin had informed him, Friday, that he had decided to make Ron the starting tailback for the football team. Although this revelation promised hard work and a fair amount of pain, Ron doubted that his opponents would be able to put the same hurt on him that Shego, Monty, Duff, and Dementor did. Third, he actually had a sweet set of wheels. The only reason that they hadn't taken his bike was that Jim and Tim had been skipped up a grade, and Kim had promised her 'rents that she would escort them to high school on their first day. The fourth, and best item was the reason he had used the word 'they' when thinking about the bike. His dream girl, the absolute hottest, smartest, coolest and all-around most badical girl on the planet, Kim Possible, was his girlfriend. Not only was she his girlfriend, she was wearing one of his jerseys and clinging to his arm, proclaiming to the world that they were an item. He had no idea what he had done right, to wind up with Kim, but he wished that he knew what it was so that he could do more of it.

"_And maybe write a book on the subject_," he mused.

By an unspoken agreement, the two of them stopped right at the edge of school grounds, not quite stepping over the invisible line.

"Well," Kim smiled at him. "One more step, and the summer's officially over."

"Yeah, but that one more step makes us officially seniors," he reminded his BFGF.

"With the full PDA regulations in effect," she pointed out, with a slight puppy dog pout.

"So we'd better perform our PDA before we take that step," he stated, with his trademark, goofy grin.

"I like how you think," she informed him, catching the front of his jersey and pulling him close.

They exercised some moderation with their PDA, both because they were in public and because they couldn't really get into the mood with the tweebs shouting 'gross' and 'cootie alert.' When they stopped, Ron just stood there with his eyes closed and a foolish grin on his face.

"Ron, are you in there?" Kim poked him in the stomach.

"I'm fine, KP," he assured her. "I was just making sure to remember that one."

"Any particular reason?"

"Yeah, I want to do the same thing, tomorrow morning, and I want to see if a KP senior kiss is even better," he answered, with his goofy grin turning right down foolish.

Kim laughed at him, then caught his arm, pulling him over the boundary and towards the school, while sparing a glare at the still smirking tweebs. Both Kim and Ron were in great moods as they walked up to the school and into the front door to be confronted with…

"Top of the morning to you, Mr. B" Ron greeted the glowering, vice-principal.

"Possible, Stoppable," he growled at them, then shifted his glare to the 'tweebs. "And Possible and Possible. I should have guessed that you would arrive en masse."

"Just fulfilling our duties as responsible seniors," Ron informed the big man. "Making sure that these freshmen arrive, prompt and prepared, at their destination."

"I am certain that you have read your student handbook's policy on public displays of affection," Barkin rumbled, giving the teen's linked arms a meaningful glance.

"Yes we have, Mr. Barkin," Kim informed him. "We may be mistaken, but the student handbook specifically allows contact between arms. As long as we link arms, or hold hands, we are complying with the official, PDA policy."

"And what about the tonsil hockey session out on the sidewalk?" The big man demanded.

"Done outside school grounds," Ron answered, since Kim was two busy glaring at her brothers' gagging noises. "Before the start of the school year."

"But you just have to push the boundaries, don't you Stoppable? Okay, you're in compliance but I've got my eye on you. I want to see six inches of daylight between you and Possible at all times, and one other thing…"

"Yes, Mr. B," Ron replied weakly, feeling a little less sure of himself.

"I only see fit to inform you that as your coach, as well as your homeroom teacher, I am now authorized to assign extra laps, as well as extra homework, for any infractions. Keep that in mind the next time you decide to push those boundaries."

"He'll remember, Mr. Barkin," Kim assured the teacher, since Ron had been rendered incapable of speech.

"So why are the four of you still loitering in this vital, educational thoroughfare?"

"No excuses Mr. Barkin," Kim assured the teacher. "I'll get everybody moving right away." With that, Kim herded her BFBF, as well as her brothers, towards their homeroom.

"That's proof positive," Ron told her, as soon as they had cleared Barkin's intimidating presence. "That man still has it in for me. Do you think he'll call your dad and have him add a 'proximity to the school' coefficient to the rules?"

"What rules?" Jim and Tim chimed in.

"Never mind, tweebs!" Kim snarled in her well-practiced growl. Then she turned back to Ron. "Barkin was just playing you a little bit," she explained. "Just put in the effort that you did last year and you'll be fine."

"I don't know, KP. Maybe he's going to try to get in as many shots as he can, now that time's running out. Not only that, but I've given him more ammunition by joining the team. Is the mascot position still open?"

"Mascot position?" Asked Tim.

"What's that?" Asked Jim.

"Never mind, tweebs! Ron, didn't you say that you were doing pretty well on the team?" Ron nodded, hoping to surprise her with his starting position when Barkin announced them officially, this Friday. "Well," Kim continued. "Don't you think he'll be even more tweaked if you leave the team and come back to the squad?"

"Yeah, it looks like I'm just going to have to step up," Ron concluded.

"The squad?" Tim asked.

"Is that the mascot position you're talking about?" Jim asked.

"Nobody's stepped up to be the Mad Dog?" Tim continued.

"How do we try out?" Jim concluded.

"Tweebs, you are so NOT trying out to be the Mad Dog!" Kim snarled. "Besides, here's your homeroom. Now that we've delivered the two of you, safe and on time, we'll see you tonight. Remember, Ron and I both have practice, so the two of you'll have to go home yourselves. Think you can manage?"

"I don't know, sis," Jim taunted.

"We've only been walking home from school since sixth grade," Tim chimed in.

"And it's a whole two blocks further to walk," Jim continued.

"So we might get lost." Tim concluded.

"Tweebs!" Kim growled, rolling her eyes skyward.

"Um…" Jim muttered.

"Gotta go." Tim finished, and the two retreated into their homeroom.

"Finally!" Kim sighed. Before she could express anything further…

"Hey guys," Ron and Kim spun around to see Monique and Felix approaching.

"So Ron," Monique asked. "Has Barkin given you any homework yet?"

"Monique, the first day hasn't even started!" Kim protested.

"He's just threatened it, so far," Ron told her.

"My, you're doing better than you did last year," Monique pointed out.

"Yeah," Ron admitted. "Hey bud!" He exchanged a high five with Felix, "what's this surprise that you've been telling me about for the last week?"

"You'll find out in homeroom," Felix told him, with a big grin.

"Then let's get heading that way," Ron suggested. "You've been psyched all week, I want to see what it is."

The four teens kept up a pleasant chat as they walked through the halls to Kim, Ron and Felix's homeroom.

"Catch you guys later," Monique told them, heading for her own homeroom. "Remember, I get first dibs if this surprise HAGW."

"HAGW?" Felix asked her retreating back.

"Has anything gossip worthy," Kim translated.

Felix snorted as the three teens found their seats. They only had a few minutes to catch up with other friends before Mr. Barkin marched in and centered himself at the front of the room.

"Alright people **listen up**!" He roared, prompting Ron to wonder if he knew any other way of starting off a school day. "First order of business, welcome to the beginning of your senior year of high school. Starting today, you'll be laying the groundwork for your futures. Exert extreme effort and follow strict discipline and there's no limit to what you can achieve. Slack off…" here he gave Ron a piercing look, "and you will find your future dominated by regret and misery. Now, on that happy note, it gives me great pleasure to introduce two returning, exchange students. Please welcome, again, Yori Tanaka and Hirotaka to Middleton High."

* * *

"I've got a problem with Stoppable." Aviarius's voice came out of the open, living room window, to where Shego crouched, eavesdropping on the two men inside. Monty had asked her to leave the farm for a few hours while he discussed matters with his conspirator, assuring her that he merely wanted to keep the two of them separated. Shego had, of course, sneaked back to find out what was going on.

"By **a problem**, I assume that you mean you won't be able to fulfill your portion of our agreement," Monty replied. His voice was calm but his tone held an underlying threat.

"I can do it, but I need more time and something else," Aviarius snapped back. "Stoppable's power isn't like Team Go's, it's…continuous."

"Please explain, as best you can," Monty's tone had grown calmer.

"Okay, Team Go acquired their powers from a comet. The matter that formed the comet was…infused…with these energies. When the comet disintegrated, those energies were released, then were absorbed by Team Go's living tissues. It was a one-shot supercharge. Now, for example, Hego's body is infused with a particular energy. Thus, he is the source of his own super strength."

"I understand," Monty assured the man.

"Right. Now, my staff seizes these energies and transfers them to another, living body. The key is that I have to be able to reach the source of the power in order to obtain the power."

"Go on," Monty replied. "How does the Mystical Monkey Power differ from the Go power?"

"Stoppable hasn't been charged with the power," Aviarius explained. "To the best that I can determine, he's drawing his power from an outside source."

"Impossible!" Monty insisted. "I personally witnessed the statues energize him!"

"Did they energize him?" Aviarius asked, after a short pause, "or did they attune him to this outside source?"

Complete silence reigned in the house for several minutes, testing Shego's patience. Finally, Monty spoke again.

"That explains so much," he mused. "My friend, you have managed to uncover a mystery that has puzzled me for some time. I wondered how Stoppable has increased his mastery of the power. He has been attuning himself, more fully, this entire time."

"I don't understand" Aviarius informed him.

"Think about Team Go's powers," Monty instructed him. "While you have observed them, has Hego gained greater strength, has Mego been able to shrink himself to an even smaller size, or has Shego's plasma become more powerful?"

"I can't say that they have," Aviarius mused. "They've gotten better at using what they have, but their powers haven't increased."

"The difference between drawing upon an outside source and a one-time energizing," Monty concluded. "Hego is as strong as he will ever become, since he obtained his strength in a single moment. Stoppable, however, is becoming stronger because he is linking himself more completely with the Mystical Monkey Power. Now, can you locate the source of the Mystical Monkey Power?"

"I have, to a certain extent," Aviarius answered, clearly hesitant. "But you're going to think I'm a loon if I tell you."

"My friend," Monty's voice had a certain humor. "We are discussing acquiring something called the Mystical Monkey Power. My guest has the ability to shoot plasma bolts from her hands. We are also planning on obtaining super strength, shrinking ability, and replicating ability for you. I myself have received genetic manipulation. I think that you'll find me very cosmopolitan in what I'm prepared to believe."

"Okay, this power isn't coming from any particular direction, it's coming from another reality."

"Another dimension, in layman's terms?" Monty asked, for clarification.

"Exactly."

"You may be surprised, but I have no problem accepting this," Monty's voice was actually friendly. "So, what do you need to gain access to this other reality?"

"The pan-dimensional vortex inducer," Aviarius informed his partner. "We're also going to need Dementor, or a lot of time to figure the thing out."

"I believe that we can free the professor," Monty said. "He's currently serving prison time for several, minor offenses here in the US, after which he will be extradited to Germany. However, my resources are somewhat limited, how can we entice him to assist us?"

"Well, do you have any use for the vortex inducer?" Aviarius asked.

"No."

"Neither do I. The way I figure it, we can offer him freedom, and the inducer, once he helps us get the monkey stuff. I think he'll jump at the chance."

"You're probably correct. Now, we have a limited time to acquire his services before he's sent to Europe. I suggest we liberate the man, then see about seizing the inducer."

This was just too stupid! Shego decided to take action. She hopped to her feet and jumped through the window.

"I have a line on the induc…" Aviarius was saying, just as Shego interrupted him.

"You guys are tactical nitwits, you know that, don't you?"

"Ah, Shego," Monty regained his composure quickly. "I thought that we had agreed it best to keep a substantial distance between you and my other guest."

"Did you really expect me to just go away and let the two of you talk shop in private?"

"Well, yes, actually," Fisk answered.

"Grow up, Monty," she snapped. "And be glad that I **did** listen in. You guys might have a grip on the 'big picture,' but you need some help executing."

"What's wrong with our plan?" Aviarius demanded.

"Who's the only one who ever tries to steal that stupid inducer?" She asked, as if she were trying to explain something to a child.

"Dementor, of course."

"Very good, birdbrain! Now, does he ever try to steal anything else?"

"Not that I've ever heard of," Monty chimed in.

"Okay, you two are halfway to understanding something very simple. Very good, you'll get cookies when we're done here. Now, all law enforcement agencies are idiots, aren't they?

"No, they are usually quite competent." Monty contradicted her, obviously false, statement.

"Excellent, Monty! Now, what do you suppose whomever is responsible for keeping the inducer safe is going to do once the one villain, who always tries to steal it, breaks out of jail?"

"Of course," Monty admitted. "Security on the inducer will be increased. We missed the obvious!"

"We can't grab the inducer first, either," Aviarius added. "Because they'll increase security on Dementor."

"Now you're starting to think tactically," Shego gave him her best, false smile. "Now comes something a little harder. You need me for your plan to take Stoppable's monkey stuff."

"That one went right by me," Fisk admitted.

"Okay, you've never partnered with a techno-villain before, so let's lay out the plan. You've got the birdbrain here, all ready to take the power. You've got the half-pint opening up some portal to get to the monkey stuff. You've got everything in place, but now you've got to go right after the kid. Do you think you're going to mess with him without the princess jumping in?"

"I hadn't really considered it," Monty admitted. "But I have dealt with Team Possible before."

"And gotten your butt kicked," Shego concluded. "Look, birdbrain here, and the half-pint, are brain types, not fighters. Birdbrain probably doesn't have any robots left and he's going to be playing with that little stick of his anyway. The half-pint won't have his goons backing him up and he's going to be fiddling with that inducer thing. That leaves you, all alone as a fighter. Princess's sidekick will tangle with you, freeing her up to take out both birdbrain and half-pint. Then the two of them will team up on you."

"And if you're present?" Monty prompted.

"You'll take on the sidekick while I take on the princess. That'll free up the half-pint and birdbrain here to do the gizmo thing. Once they do it, the sidekick becomes just a buffoon and you take him out. That leaves the princess all alone."

"And what do you get out of all of this?" Aviarius demanded.

"Revenge! I even the score against the princess."

"I believe we have a plan," Fisk concluded. "Now, lets see about acquiring Dementor and the inducer."

* * *

"So, what brings the two of you to Middleton, and don't try to tell me that it's any sort of an exchange," Kim grumbled. She and Ron were meeting with Yori and Hirotaka in the Stoppables' back yard, ostensibly babysitting Hanna while Ron's parents were attending an actuarial event.

Kim had gone through a rough first day of school. Actually, the school day itself wasn't very bad. While she had wound up escorting her brothers, being with her BFBF had more than made up for it. While seeing Yori and Hirotaka again had come as a surprise, it was a good surprise. She really liked the two. No, the rough part had come after class, during cheerleading practice, when she found out that the tweebs had signed up for the Mad Dog tryouts. Bonnie had had a field day with that one.

"That is, indeed, what we are to tell you, Possible-san," Yori answered. The Japanese girl was seated on a lawn chair, with Hanna on her lap. Hanna was usually restless when a stranger held her, but she had taken to Yori.

"It's what you're to tell us," Ron added. "But it's not why you're here, is it?" While Yori had Hanna on her lap, Ron had Kim on his.

"There are details which Master Sensei does not wish revealed," Hirotaka answered the blond boy. "And I do not question his judgement. He stated that you are, of course, welcome to consult with him."

Hirotaka was another reason that Kim was off balance. During his first visit to Middleton, he had been arrogant to the point of being obnoxious. While at Yamanouchi, he had been almost as reserved and polite as Yori. During the school day, he had been arrogant again but now, in private, he was back to being polite.

"In other words, Sensei wants the two of you here. You're not guarding me this time, since neither of you is living with us." Ron frowned, "where are you guys staying, anyway?"

"Mr. Yoshimuto, an immigrant from Japan, has agreed to provide us with a home," Yori informed him. "He lives three blocks away."

"So Sensei wants the two of you close to Ron," Kim concluded. "But you don't have to be there with him 24/7."

"You are, of course, free to made any conjectures that you wish," Hirotaka informed her. "But we ask you to not make such guesses public. Sensei assures us that he will inform you why we are here, when the time is appropriate. He also cautions that this time span may be measured in years."

"Man, patience isn't my strong suit," Ron complained. "I've tried to master it during my meditations, but going in with the mindset of 'give me patience and give it to me NOW' just doesn't seem to work." Kim gave him a discrete poke in the ribs. Yori and Hirotaka just smiled.

"Is there anything else you need to tell us?" Kim asked. "Or even tell Ron, alone? If not, I think that it's time for football boy and I to hit some books."

"No, there is nothing more to say," Yori stood up, prompting Kim to get off of Ron's lap so that he could do the same. The Japanese girl reluctantly handed Hanna to the blonde. "It will be, of course, our honor to let you do your homework."

"And catch some sleep ourselves," Hirotaka added. "I don't know about Yori, but tomorrow promises to be a trying day for me."

"I don't understand, dude," Ron admitted. "I mean, I've seen your grades. Your standards are way up there. I can't see you having any problems with the classes."

"It isn't the classes," Hirotaka confessed. "The last time I visited Middleton, Sensei decided that I should be an arrogant, conceited youth. This means I must be so again. Not only that, but part of the act is to pursue Bonnie Rockwaller as my number one girlfriend." The Japanese boy shuddered, "While Yori-san spends her time with Renton-san, enjoying herself, I must 'act cool' with Rockwaller-san."

"Dude, I may get pounded for saying this," Ron protested. "But if I wasn't already dating the planet's most bondiggity badical girl, that wouldn't seem so bad."

"Ron!" Kim couldn't quite keep the smile off of her face.

"Rockwaller-san is, indeed, what you call…prime eye-candy," Hirotaka admitted. "But her attitude is most repulsive." He looked at Ron and shook his head. "If you thought she was unpleasant in public when she was putting you in your place, be thankful that you've never heard her express her opinions about everyone, in private."

"Yori, however, finds herself in danger," the boy continued, now with a smile and a slightly taunting tone. "She spends her free time with Renton-san, who is the opposite of Rockwaller-san. Renton-san is not much to look at, but he is, as you Americans say, an all-around good guy. Yori-san may find it difficult to return to Japan after the mission is complete."

"HIROTAKA!" The normally reserved Yori snapped at her companion.

"My apologies," he offered, with a slight bow. "It was most dishonorable of me to suggest you may let your personal feelings affect your duty."

"That it was," she said, glaring at him. "I also find it most offensive that you say Renton-san is not much to look at."

"I dunno," Ron came to his fellow male's rescue. "His looks have never really done anything for me."

"Ron!" Kim snapped. Then she looked up at Yori. "Maybe we better get these two separated and doing their homework."

"Most wise, Possible-san," Yori agreed, with an ill-concealed smirk. She pointed Hirotaka towards the sidewalk and gave him a firm shove while Kim guided Ron into the house.

Kim and Ron set up their books on the Stoppables' kitchen table and started to work. As it was the first day, there weren't heavy class assignments and they finished their homework very quickly. After this, Kim played with Hanna while Ron prepared dinner. After dinner, they retired to the living room and watched Hanna. Ron's adoptive sister had taken to 'cruising' or supporting herself on the furniture as she tried to walk. As this kept her happily occupied, it gave the teens a chance to talk.

"So," Kim started the conversation. "How did practice go today?"

"Pretty well, and with you?"

"With the exception of Bonnie pre-gloating about the tweebs trying out for the Mad Dog," Kim commented. "I can't complain. We have tryouts this Friday, and it looks like it's going to be _Bonnie_, Tara, Liz, Jessica, Crystal, Cindy and Ruth, and me. Julie and the tweebs are going to be trying out for the mascot position." She paused, "I notice that you haven't actually came out and told me exactly where Barkin has put you on the team. Well, we don't have any distractions, so spill."

"Well, Barkin's a big believer in versatility, so he has me practicing at two positions."

"Which two?" Her interest was rising.

"Tailback and cornerback."

"Okay," Kim noted. "Now, lets try this again. Are you second string, third string, what?"

"All I'll say is that I should see some playing time."

"That's not saying much," Kim started, then her eyes snapped open. "You made the varsity, didn't you?"

"Well, Barkin won't make any official announcements until the rally this Friday. Hey! How did you come to that conclusion?"

"Last fall, a certain someone said that he should make the varsity wrestling squad _**at some point**_, then he earned his spot two weeks later. Now that same someone is just saying that he should see some playing time. Fine, mister! I'll let you surprise me with which position you'll play."

"Please don't be upset with me, KP," Ron apologized. "But you know how I let things like this go to my head. The worlds most badical girl deserves a mature, humble boyfriend."

"I'm not upset," Kim assured him. "And you used to let things like this go to your head." She shook her head, "look at us, head cheerleader and a varsity football player. We've gone from 'never be normal' to 'the all-American teen couple'."

"I think we still do enough freak-fighting to keep anyone from thinking we're entirely normal," Ron pointed out.

Kim frowned at that. They still hadn't heard anything about Monkeyfist, Aviarius, Shego, or DNAmy. Kim suspected that they were working on something and keeping low in the meantime. Fortunately, the teens had continued their morning sparring sessions, so they were as sharp as they had ever been.

Ron's parents pulled into the driveway, interrupting Kim's musings. She exchanged some pleasantries with them, the Ron walked her home. His parents smiled as the two left, if there was anyone in the world who didn't need to be escorted, it was Kim. Ron was walking her home out of manners, and the teens' wish to have a little alone time. Kim was more that happy to spend a good twenty minutes 'saying goodnight' on her front porch, before going inside. All in all, this school year was promising to be a very good one for her.

* * *

"Monty, do you mind talking a little shop, and other stuff?" Shego asked her host. Aviarius had left a couple of hours earlier, after sketching out a basic plan to liberate both Dementor and the inducer, with the two of them.

"Not at all, Shego," Monty looked up from the report he had just printed from the computer. "I'm at your disposal."

"Just what agreement do you have with birdbrain," she asked. "I know that it's between you and him, but I get the feeling that it might affect me."

"Indeed, Shego," now he set the paper aside. "Our agreement is quite simple. He will help me acquire the Mystical Monkey Power and I will help him obtain Team Go's powers."

"Do those powers include mine?" Shego demanded.

"I do not consider you a member of Team Go, so I will not assist him in taking your powers. My intentions were to warn you that he might attempt to acquire your powers, when you chose to leave this home."

"Fair enough, you weren't making my powers part of the deal," Shego was actually quite relieved. "Now, what happens after you both get what you want? I can't picture you guys sharing the world."

"We've discussed this, and I think that we can actually co-exist," Monty explained. "Aviarius doesn't want to rule the world, he only wants to dominate Go City. I don't wish to rule the world, I will have the Mystical Monkey Power, I will rule over all things simian, and I will place myself as the head of the Yamanouchi school. I will be the head of a shadow empire of hidden agents and operatives. There will be no need for the two of us to combat each other."

"Okay, Monty, where do I fit in if you get what you want?"

"If you wish, you will be my most trusted agent and enforcer. If not, you are free to pursue whatever ambitions you wish, as long as they do not infringe upon mine."

"Okay Monty, I'm in, completely, under two conditions."

"And they are?" Monty prompted.

"One, no taking over the world through a violent assault, like Drakken tried. I don't mind extortion or seizing some institution, like Yamanouchi, but no 'attacking the whole world.' That's just poor business."

"I assure you, Shego, that I have no intention of employing such heavy-handed tactics. In fact, the vast majority of this world's population will be unaware that I even exist."

"Good, the second condition is that we free Drakken," Shego watched her host closely after this revelation.

"Might I inquire why?"

"It's part of the deal we worked out a long time ago. If caught, he takes the blame, risking severe punishment, in order to get me a lighter sentence. Then I break him out. He kept his part of the bargain, I intend to keep mine."

"Honor among thieves?" He replied, with a surprised look, "I'm actually impressed."

"I'm a mercenary," Shego informed him, proudly. "And a mercenary always repays her debts."

"Very well, I pledge to you that once I obtain the Mystical Monkey Power, I shall devote whatever resources are at my command, myself included, to freeing Dr. Drakken. However, I shall not take him into my empire. He, like Aviarius, will be free to pursue whatever ambitions he chooses, so long as he does not infringe upon mine."

"Fair enough Monty, count me in."

"Excellent, Shego," Monty smiled. "Now, perhaps you will answer one of my questions?"

"Shoot!"

"Why haven't you left? I know that you have your own network of contacts, hidden assets, and safe havens."

"What? You want me out?" Shego was disgusted at the dismay in her voice.

"Indeed no!" Monty got control of his voice. "I truly enjoy having you here. I…" Monty took a deep breath, "I truly enjoy your presence."

"Okay Monty, I'm going to spill it all," Shego screwed up her courage. "I've stayed here because I think that there could be something between us, and I'm not just talking about a partnership."

"I'm most flattered," Monty replied, after a moment to compose himself. "I acknowledge, Shego, that you are an intriguing, attractive young woman and I have had certain…thoughts and desires along those lines."

"Why didn't you say anything?" She asked, rising to her feet.

"I didn't think that you shared these feelings," he admitted, also getting to his feet. "There's also the fact that my situation makes such a…relationship…rather tenuous."

"What's the situation?"

"Well, Amelia has provided me with this abode, and while the two of us haven't discussed the matter, I believe that she has certain…expectations of me."

"Oh, she wants some monkey business?"

Fisk gave Shego a look that said he caught the joke, then answered, "an inventive way of saying so, but I have to admit that I'm most grateful to her for releasing me and providing me with this haven. Granted, the very thought of such a…liaison…disgusts me but, like you said, debts must be repaid."

'Okay, did she ever come right out and say what she expected?"

"No," he admitted. "She sort of assumes that I reciprocate her…affections."

"Then don't worry about it, Monty. "You have your own resources now, don't you?"

"Yes, I've managed to divert the majority of my inheritance to a point where I have access, but I'm not about to just storm out on Amelia. As you would say, I owe her."

"No big deal," Shego smirked. "She never came out and said what she wanted. If you feel guilty, return the favor and bail her out sometime."

"Very well, I agree that she has no claim of that sort upon my person," he looked up at her, almost shyly. "Where does that leave…us?"

Suddenly, Shego found herself indecisive again. Most of her…encounters had been very straightforward issues. Both she and the other party had known exactly what they were getting into and what they wanted from the other. Now, she really didn't know what she wanted out of this

"It leaves us trying to figure out just where we are," she answered, gliding very close to him. "It leaves us knowing that we want to try this."

"Shego, I hope you realize that I have no intention of…manipulating you into…" Monty began, only to be silenced by Shego.

"I know, Monty," she told him. "Look, lets lay this out plain. We've both lived hard lives, so neither one of us is some innocent newbie in this game. We're both professional enough that if this doesn't work out, we can keep working together if we want to. I'm willing to give this a try. I want to give this a try. How about you?"

"Yes, I…want you, Shego. But there are certain…precautions that I didn't have the foresight to obtain."

"No need," Shego assured him. "Here's something almost nobody knows. One of the side effects of my powers is that I have an elevated body temperature. My normal, resting temperature is one-twenty, or do you prefer the Celsius scale?"

"I've become accustomed to the measurements you Americans prefer. I know that one twenty Fahrenheit is a very warm temperature."

"Well, my temperature raises even more when I'm active and/or excited. Another little piece of information; Doctor D always made sure his employees had medical care. That included 'female doctors' for the few women on his staff. Anyway, one of those doctors explained the implications of my elevated temperature to me. It turns out that almost no known STDs can survive that temperature. It also turns out that a man's…little guys…can't survive it either." For some reason, that last bit of information always saddened her just a little.

"Shego," he said, with a somewhat sad smile. "I now find myself at a loss as to how to proceed."

"Monty?" She slid up to him, their arms wrapping around each other.

"Yes, Shego?"

"Shut up!"

And with that, warm, emerald lips drove rational thoughts from his mind.

* * *

_A/N: As always, I can't express how much I appreciate how many people have taken the time to leave a review, even if it's to point out my errors. _

_A huge thank you to Joe Stoppinghem, for his ever-patient Beta services. Thanks Joe. _

_'till my next update, best wishes,_

_daccu65_


	20. School Days

Chapter 20: School Days

'I really don't understand this, could you explain it to me again?" Yori asked. It was lunchtime on Friday, and the two Japanese teens had were nearly finished with their first week as American high school seniors.

"Sure," Oscar replied. "First of all, I want to become a civil engineer."

Yori nodded, she could understand that. The American boy's grades, especially in math and science, certainly supported this ambition.

"Well, my dad and I don't have a whole lot of money, so I'm trying to get an athletic scholarship."

"This is what I don't understand," Yori confessed. "Some universities will reduce their costs for you, if you play sports?"

"Yes," Oscar explained. "Both Iowa and Iowa State are willing to offer me this deal, as long as I can prove that I'm proficient at meeting a man of my weight, throwing him to the ground and holding his shoulders to the ground, all while preventing him from doing the same to me. I'm hoping to convince Colorado State to offer me the same incentive." Oscar frowned a little, "of course, most universities are willing to provide even more financial incentives if you are capable of teaming with ten other men too advance an oblong ball up and down an open field, or preventing another team of eleven from doing the same. They're also willing to provide additional incentives if you are capable of teaming with four other men, too throw a spherical ball through an elevated hoop more often than another team of five."

"This is where I become confused," Yori admitted, as the rest of the teens snickered.

"To be honest, so do I," Oscar confessed. "I don't try to understand the world, I just try to live in it."

"Don't let him play you," Monique told her Japanese friend. "He's just acting ignorant. The fact is that some of these universities make a great deal of money from their spectator sports programs. They use some of this money to offer scholarships for sports that don't draw quite as many fans. This guy," she pointed at the shyly smiling Oscar. "Could have explained that, but he likes to focus on the silly aspect of athletic scholarships."

"While using humor to explain the situation?" Yori asked.

"That's the way he usually does things," Cindy informed her.

Kim couldn't help but smile around the table at her friends. She and Ron were, of course, sitting next to each other. (The crowded table gave them an excuse to be mashed up against each other.) Cindy and Oscar were across the table, in much the same situation as her and Ron. Yori sat next to Oscar (Kim still preferred her to not sit next to Ron) on the outside, where Felix could wheel his chair up to sit next to her. Monique sat on the other outside edge, wedging Kim up against Ron. Kim frowned, momentarily, feeling sorry that her best female friend was the only 'unmatched' teen at the table, but it didn't seem to bother Monique. Kim glanced at the 'food chain elite' table, where Hirotaka sat next to Bonnie. The redhead was a little surprised that Monique had chosen not to pursue the Japanese boy, like she had the last time he had visited Middleton. Instead, Bonnie seemed to be paired up with him by default. While he looked like he was enjoying himself now, every morning, when he and Yori joined her and Ron for a sparring session, he clearly had to 'buck himself up' to face the day with Bonnie.

"Some rumors in Japan suggest that American high schools are full of students who attend class only so that they can play sports." Yori said. "The rumors say that these athletes cannot function outside of sports. Is this true?"

"It **does** happen," Monique informed her. "But it's not as common as a lot of public figures suggest. Brick Flagg, for example, was a great football player but a pretty poor student. He wasn't illiterate, just not very bright as a student. Most athletes are like Oscar here, he likes the sport and he hopes to use his talent to obtain an education."

"There isn't a professional career in wrestling, anyway," Oscar chimed in. "And I'm not a good enough football player to get into a major college's program, much less play professionally."

"So why do you play football, Williamsen-san?" Yori asked.

"I enjoy the game," he admitted. "And I'd like to think that athletics builds my character a little."

"How do you think that athletics enhances your character?" Yori seemed genuinely interested.

"Well, let's say my wishes come true and I get a job as a civil engineer. Let's say that my boss has a really bad day and comes out late one afternoon and absolutely explodes on me because I haven't finished the stress calculations for the new apartment building. Instead of just quitting because of the pressure, hopefully I'll be able to remember the workouts that Coach Barkin and Coach Winters have put me through, and realize that I'm perfectly capable of swallowing the insults, putting in some overtime, and getting the job done."

"How does athletics interact with the deeds you and Ron-san perform, Possible-san?" Yori seemed to be full of questions. The Kim realized that she was giving her a chance to maintain Yamanouchi's cover.

"Well, Ron's time on the wrestling mat made him much more capable as my partner," Kim began.

"Assistant," Ron insisted.

"We can argue about it later," Kim told him, then she turned back to Yori. "I have to admit that my cheerleading has helped by increasing my stamina, agility and strength."

"I have another question, if you do not mind answering so many," Yori continued. "What is this 'pep rally' that will take place during the last class period of the school day?"

"It's sort of a welcome back, and an official start to the football season, all rolled into one," Cindy answered. "The cheerleaders returning from last year's squad will perform their routines and Mr. Barkin, as Coach Barkin, will announce the team's official, starting lineup. Both Kim and I suspect that our boyfriends are on the starting lineup, but they're not talking, so we'll find out if and where, this afternoon."

"Mrs. Johnson will introduce the girls trying out for the cheerleading squad, as well as the students who are trying out for the mascot." Kim added, with the last item coming out as a bit of a growl.

"Ah, Possible-san, your younger brothers, the…tweebs…are attempting to become the mascot, are they not?"

"They're not only trying out, it looks like they're the ones to beat for the job," Cindy answered for her friend. "If they make it, Mrs. Johnson is seriously thinking of having two mascots."

Kim was spared the need to comment about her brothers when the bell rang. Felix backed his wheelchair away from the table while the rest of the teens slid out. The chaotic crowd gave Ron enough time to give Kim a quick, discrete smooch before they went to their separate classes. Oscar and Cindy also took advantage of the crowd and, to his surprise, so did Yori and Felix. Ron chuckled as he stepped into the hall; it appeared that the polite, obedient Yori wasn't above breaking the occasional rule.

The rest of the day passed without incident. Ron was on top of his schoolwork and, much to his shock; Barkin's first-day homework threats hadn't resulted in more assignments. The threat was still there, and Ron had no doubt that it was valid, but he seemed to be capable of keeping to the man's straight and narrow. So during the pep rally, Ron was able to join the other football players with only a normal homework load and that evening's workout standing between him and the weekend.

* * *

He stood with the other players, watching Kim, Bonnie, Tara, Liz and Jessica and Crystal perform their routine while the band played. A thought suddenly occurred to him, this was the first time that he had seen his girlfriend perform as a cheerleader. Sure, he had seen Kim doing the routines countless times, but this was the first time since they had started dating. Seeing her just confirmed what he had thought, while walking to school the first day; "_I'm the luckiest guy in the world_."

The cheerleaders formed a pyramid, with Tara, Crystal, and Jessica, on hands and knees, on the bottom. Liz and Bonnie formed the second tier and Kim vaulted, with a flip, to stand on the very top. Kim stood for a few moments, then leapt up and backwards, executing a double-back flip on her way to the ground. As soon as Kim's feet left their shoulders, Liz and Bonnie executed a single back flip. As soon as Bonnie and Liz's feet left their backs, Tara, Crystal, and Jessica did a forward summersault and sprang to their feet. All six cheerleaders' feet struck the ground, and they stopped, at exactly the same moment, and at the moment that the band stopped playing.

Oh yeah, the squad still had it!

"Alright people, listen up!" Barkin snapped, striding to the center of the gym. "First of all, let's hear it for the returning Mad Dog's cheerleaders!"

The applause was loud and long.

"For those of you trying out for the squad, THIS is the standard you will be aspiring to achieve. NOW! Speaking of achieving high standards, it's time for me to introduce the Middleton Mad Dogs football team. First, the defense…"

Kim and the rest of the cheerleaders cheered for each player as he jogged out and assumed his place in the team's standard alignment. Kim held her breath just a little as Barkin called out the secondary's names. As Barkin started on the offensive line, Kim grew more excited. She was about ninety percent sure that Ron had made the starting lineup, but she was about to find out for sure.

"At fullback, Oscar Williamsen!" Barkin called, after introducing the line and the receivers. "At tailback, Ron Stoppable! At quarterback…"

Kim jumped higher when Barkin called her BFBF's name, executing a back flip. She noticed that the other cheerleaders were surreptitiously glancing at her at the time. While the entire squad knew that she and Ron were dating, this was her way of announcing that it was real. Kim Possible had just announced to the entire school, in cheerleader language, that she had it bad for the starting tailback.

"Alright people," Barkin snarled. "In a few moments, I will release you for the weekend. Now, I hope that everyone has gotten rid of his or her pansy, lazy, summer attitude. Now, as most of you know, the first game of the season is next week, at Upperton. If any of your parents are willing to drive, please pick up a form from the office. We will try to match vehicle space, going to the game, with student who wish to go. The following week is Spirit week, with the events culminating in the Spirit dance, immediately following the Lowerton game. I hope everyone will get into the school spirit by attending. Okay everyone, it's officially the weekend! Rally Dismissed!"

The band kicked up one last number, keeping the stampeding students entertained. The students with extracurriculars headed to them, while the handful with detention slumped in that direction. Kim and Ron met out on the crowded gym floor.

"You big tease!" She exclaimed, risking the PDA policy by giving him a quick hug. "I **knew** you made the varsity!"

"Hey, until Mr. B made the official announcement, he was free to change his mind," Ron rationalized. "But I better get to the field before he has second thoughts." He paused a moment, "KP?"

"Yeah?"

"I know I don't have to say it, cause you'll do it anyway, but knock 'em dead at rehearsals!"

Kim didn't say anything, just gave him another quick hug. Ron trotted off, with a last, lingering touch of his fingers on her face. She looked after him, dreamily, until…

"Possible-san," she turned to see Yori, who offered her a shallow bow. "Would it be acceptable for me to observe the tryouts? Although I have no intention of trying out for the squad, I would like to see the competition. I would also like to see how you, Cindy-san, and your brothers fare." Then the lithe, Japanese girl offered a shy smile, "and Felix-kun is meeting with Barkin-sama about his duties as the statistician. This leaves me with some time before he drives me to the Yoshimuto house."

"I don't mind," Kim smiled at her friend. "Just have a seat and…"

"Okay ladies," Mrs. Johnson, the cheerleaders' coach, interrupted Kim's conversation. "Get ready for the tryouts. We'll start with Kim Possible."

* * *

"So it's inevitable?" Drakken's voice almost broke as he looked across the table at his lawyer.

"Yes, we can delay it, but it's going to happen," the lawyer confirmed. "You really should have come clean Lipsky, but it's too late now. If you have any more secret stashes, don't say a word."

"So what exactly happened?" The blue-skinned, mad scientist asked.

"Pretty much what the general told you would happen," the attorney told him. "Dementor had moved into that laboratory, in the mine that you owned. He was in the country illegally, and in possession of controlled substances, without proper licensing. Anyway, the Department of the Interior started gunning for the first tier, property management firm, to pay to remove the chemicals from the mine. The firm, of course, tried to push the responsibility onto whoever hired them. Anyway, it took them some time, but with the NSA starting with you and tracing the ownership chain down and the Department of the Interior starting with the management firm, and tracing the ownership chain up, they eventually met. Now they have a firm trail showing that you own the mine."

"Let me guess," the blue man muttered. "I'm going to receive a subpoena to appear in this civil case. Holland will extradite me for this legal appearance and the US government, since I'm there anyway, will try me on multiple counts of murder and/or conspiracy to commit murder."

"In a general sense, yes. There's a lot more going on, but that's what's going to happen."

"I will be found guilty and condemned to death, won't I?"

"I don't see how we can avoid it," the lawyer answered him.

"Once I'm convicted, isn't there a mandatory appeal process?"

"Yes, but you won't win," the lawyer looked at his employer. "The formal extradition request won't come through for a month or two. After that, we might be able to delay it for another month. Once back in the U.S., it will take anywhere from one to four months to seat a jury and start the trial. I might be able to stretch the trial to six months. After that, you'll be convicted and the appeal process might take another year, maybe a year and a half. After that, it's time for you to reveal any additional facilities you might have. You might be able to get another two months of life out of each one you reveal. Then, I'm afraid it's all over." The lawyer took a deep breath; "you are, of course, free to hire another attorney."

"No, no," Drakken murmured. "You seem quite competent. If I had followed your advice, I wouldn't be in the situation I am. Have you…heard anything more about Shego?"

"Yes, and the news isn't good. You're behind the times in here, so I want you to watch this footage." The man pulled out his laptop and played the coverage of Team Possible, and Hego, taking down Aviarius.

"I want you to keep in mind that the bird-guy was able to steal Hego's strength. Well, sometime after this, Monkeyfist broke Aviarius out of prison and the two of them snagged Shego out of a medical center shortly after that. There's been no word on any of the three since. I've used some of my…other than fully legal contacts, and I haven't been able to uncover any news about her. Right now, the NSA thinks it most likely that Aviarius has taken her powers and then…disposed of her."

Drew Lipsky lowered his face into his hands. Of all the deaths he had caused, Shego's, even though he wasn't directly responsible for it, seemed to hit him the hardest.

"_Where had it all gone wrong?"_

* * *

Kim nearly skipped down the sidewalk, her arm firmly linked with her BFBF's. The tweebs were a half-block ahead of them, excited by the audition's outcome.

"So, judging by how happy you are, and the fact that you gave me an absolutely badical KP kiss the moment we stepped off of school grounds, I'd say that the audition must have gone well," Ron commented.

"Oh, yeah!"

"Ready to talk about it?" He asked, "don't get me wrong, if you just want to kiss me again, I'm completely down with that, as well."

Kim giggled and gave him a quick kiss, safe since the tweebs were still to busy talking to each other than to spy on their sister.

"It went how I thought it would," she almost gushed at him. "I made the team, with Bonnie, Liz, Jessica, Tara, Cindy, Ruth and Crystal. The tweebs became the mascots; they did so well that Mrs. Johnson decided to keep them both on the squad. The best part is that all of the votes were unanimous!"

"What!" Ron looked shocked. "Bonnie actually voted for Cindy? And your brothers?"

"She may be the 'Queen B'," Kim reminded him. "But she's serious about cheerleading. She's not about to let her personal attitudes get in the way of putting a solid squad together."

"Okay, what else went right for you?"

"The squad elected me captain again," she smiled at her boyfriend. "There was one vote for Bonnie, one for Tara, and the rest were for me."

"Wow," Ron commented. "I'm willing to bet that Bonnie voted for Bonnie, but who voted for Tara?"

"I did," Kim admitted. "I've never been able to cast a vote for myself."

"Okay, you have the squad you want, you're the captain again and everything's going peachy during the first week of school," Ron mused. "This still doesn't explain why you're is **such** a good mood."

Kim glanced around, making sure that they were alone.

"I think I saw the perfect, ninja set-up, and Bonnie fell for it," she snickered.

"Oh, what happened?"

"Well, Yori asked if she could watch the auditions, passing the time until Barkin was done with Felix."

Ron nodded; Felix took his volunteer duties as the team's statistician seriously.

"Well, Yori sat and watched the auditions," Kim continued. "After a while, Hirotaka showed up and sat next to her and they started talking. Bonnie didn't much like it, but she couldn't do anything about it right away."

Ron nodded again. Bonnie had a reputation of hating attractive girls anywhere near her boyfriends. As two foreign exchange students, nobody would think much of Hirotaka and Yori talking, unless you were Bonnie. Of course, her jealousy didn't keep her from pursuing other boys.

"Okay, so we finish with the auditions, announce the squad, hold the election and Mrs. Johnson gives us the standard 'lets make this the best squad ever' speech. As soon as Mrs. J is done with us, Bonnie struts over to Hirotaka and says something to the effect of 'Hey boyfriend, ready to ditch the little girl and get the weekend started?'"

"Ouch," Ron had been on the receiving end of Bonnie's wit too many times.

"Yeah, well I was just getting ready to go say something, all while hoping that Yori would finally get a little tweaked and just let Bonnie have one, when Hirotaka jumps up and starts yelling at Bonnie. He said something about how he didn't want anything to do with someone who had insulted his cousin." She paused, "I didn't know that Yori and Hirotaka were cousins."

"I didn't either," Ron confessed. "Of course, if this was a setup like you think, maybe they aren't."

"Well, anyway, Hirotaka offers Yori his arm and they storm out of the gym. Bonnie was absolutely speechless but I caught a look at Yori's face as they left, and she winked at me."

"So you think it was all a setup to get Bonnie to break up with Hirotaka, while keeping his cover as an arrogant pretty boy?"

"Yes, Bonnie's stewing and it's great!"

"Uh, KP?" Ron was a little nervous about speaking. "I know it's Bonnie and all, but it still isn't nice to be happy about someone being put down like that."

"I know, Ron, but listen. Just yesterday in the dressing room, Bonnie was saying that any cheerleader who doesn't have a hot boyfriend was a real loser and was ruining the squad's reputation. She was looking right at Cindy when she said that. Now, she's going to have to eat her words!"

"That's still not very nice, KP."

"I know, but that's not the best part. Hirotaka is available again."

Ron looked like he had just been kicked in the stomach. Not hearing a response, Kim looked at him and suddenly brought her hand up to her mouth.

"HOLD IT RIGHT THERE, RON STOPPABLE!" She snapped at him. "Get that thought out of your mind right now. I'm not about to chase after Hirotaka. I've got an absolutely great boyfriend and I don't intend to let him go, understand me?"

"Okay, KP, but when you said…"

"Okay, poor choice of words on my part. What I meant was Monique still has a bit of a crush on him. He said that he didn't like Bonnie because she was so snarky about everyone. Monique's not like that, so maybe the two of them…"

"I'll leave that call up to you," Ron said. "But we might be able to find out if it was all a setup, or if Yori and Hirotaka really are cousins, when they show up for our workout tomorrow afternoon."

"Yeah, but if I try to set those two up, will you help?" Kim looked sly.

"I've always got your back, KP."

"And you did a pretty good job with Oscar and Cindy," Kim reminded him. "If we were to try to set them two up, what would be your plan?"

* * *

"So, what's the plan now?" Aviarius snarled at his two partners. He didn't really like how Monkeyfist and Shego had become more cooperative since the last time they had met.

"My friend, Shego has called things correctly. She and I are fighters while you and Dementor are scientists. Now, it comes to our attention that Dementor requires a great deal of supporting hardware to make use of the vortex inducer. Given that we have obtained some blueprints for his last machine, I would like to know if you can comprehend them."

"To what purpose?" The birdman demanded.

"Tactical thinking again," Shego informed her one-time nemesis. "We want to grab Dementor, the inducer, and as much supporting hardware as we can, all at the same time."

"Ah" Aviarius approved. "In other words, if we grab Dementor and his toy, the cops are going to have an eagle-eye on the hardware he needs."

"Exactly, old boy," Fisk agreed with him. "We believe it best to not let our potential adversaries know that we're up to anything, until we do everything, or at least as close as we can come to it."

"Okay, that makes sense" Aviarius agreed "Now, what say I try a little tactical thinking? The world doesn't know what we've done with Shego. In fact, the various law enforcement agencies don't even know if she's still alive. I suggest that when we make our move, I grab the inducer, Fisk grabs Dementor, and Shego grabs the hardware. Fisk is sure to get caught by at least one camera, and I have a pretty good chance as well. Various warehouses are less likely to be fully covered by security cameras, so Shego might remain undetected. That way, she's an ace up our sleeves."

"Not bad, birdbrain," Shego complimented him, in her own way.

"So, Fisk, let me see these schematics."

It took awhile, but Aviarius finally figured out most of what Dementor used. He didn't have a chance of actually constructing one of Dementor's machines, but he could decipher most of the components. Finally, much later that night…

"All right, I think I've gone about as far as I can fly," he told Monkeyfist. "There's no way Shego can grab the entire shopping list in one night, but she can grab the rarest of the components. If she gets the unusual stuff, we can collect the rest of what we need at a later date. It's also going to take Dementor some time, maybe weeks, to construct his device after we get all the parts. Finally, it's going to be a bulky machine and we're going to need to get it close to Stoppable, he's sort of the lynchpin to this whole plan. How are we going to do that?"

"One issue at a time, my friend," Fisk assured him. "This property used to be a large ranch, so there are quarters for hired hands. These quarters are still habitable, so we can keep the man here. The barn will provide adequate space for assembling his machinery and the generator shall power it, without creating a suspicious, and traceable, drain on the local grid. Once we get Dementor, and his device, we will worry about bringing it into Stoppable's proximity."

"You've got more faith than me," Aviarius remarked. "Still, I can't come up with a better plan. When do we execute?"

"A week from today," Shego told him. "It gives us enough time to make preparations and the staff, from most of the warehouses I'll be visiting, will be off for the weekend. With a little luck, nobody will notice my acquisitions until the following Monday."

With that, Aviairius left. Monkeyfist sighed. While both the birdman and Shego were capable partners, working with them at the same time was a trial. Aviarius refused to speak to the woman directly and Shego wouldn't speak to him, unless she could fit an insult into her comments. Fisk had no doubt that if he didn't keep between the two; they would be at each other's throats in moments.

"Rough dealing with the underlings?" Shego asked him.

"My dear, are you now a mind reader?"

"No," she favored him with another of her true smiles. "Just remembering that Dr. D used to tell me that dealing with conflicting, violent personalities was the hardest part of keeping a criminal enterprise going. I never appreciated how hard he had to work to do it. If you weren't here, I'd be trying to cook the birdbrain's goose and he'd be trying to steal my powers."

"I believe that the key is keeping you both working towards a goal," Fisk mused. "I noticed that your personality is a considerably less…acidic…when you have a task in front of you."

"So I'm hard to get along with?" She wore an amused smirk.

"You must admit, my dear, that you have a very direct personality."

"I am what I am," she grinned at him.

"I wouldn't have you any other way," Fisk assured her.

To her amazement, Shego realized he was telling the truth. For some reason, her sarcastic, abrasive manner just fit him perfectly.

"_God_," she thought. "_I'm a crushing schoolgirl and I'm enjoying it_." Then she smiled, "_of course, I missed out on a lot of the crushing schoolgirl things when I was a teen, why not make up for it now?"_

"Did I say something amusing?" Fisk asked her, noticing her smile.

"Not really," she looked at him, her eyes half lidded. "Is there anything that we need to accomplish tonight?"

"Well, I believe that we should plan your acquisitions, while I go over my plan to liberate Dementor," he mused. "But that can easily be done after our morning workout. Why?"

She answered by walking over to where he was seated and sitting across his lap, "because I want you to show me just how much you appreciate me being here, while I do the same for you."

And warm, emerald lips took away his rational thoughts yet again.

* * *

_A/N: Thank you all, once again, for taking the time to read this story. I particularly appreciate the reviews I have received. _

_A huge thank you goes out to Joe Stoppinghem, for his invaluable Beta services. _

_Until next update, best wishes, _

_daccu65_


	21. Challenges and successes

Chapter 21: Challenges and successes.

"OKAY PEOPLE," Barkin's voice echoed through the Upperton High visitor's locker room. "Are you ready to play!?"

"YES SIR!" The entire team roared back.

"Who are we?"

"MAD DOGS!"

"Who are we?"

"**MAD DOGS!**"

Ron found himself joining in the yells, getting pumped up in spite of himself. He didn't think that he could get pumped, after all he as used to tangling with super villains, but there was something stirring about being a cog in a larger machine. There was something stirring about knowing that his parents were actually going to be watching him play his first game. There was something stirring about knowing that he wasn't going to let his teammates down.

There was something stirring about knowing that Kim was going to be cheering extra loud; just for him.

The second week of school had gone by in a blur of morning sparring sessions with KP, Hirotaka and Yori; afternoon practice, evening homework (with KP) and occasional babysitting duty. He and KP had already declared Friday to be homework/give his 'rents a break from Hanna night, while Saturdays were date night. Of course, they still spent almost every available moment together, just like when they were just best friends.

"ALLRIGHT MADDOGS, LET'S GO!"

Coach Barkin threw open the door and Ron joined the stampede onto the field. The Middleton fans who had made the trip cheered their team while the Upperton fans offered polite applause. Ron glanced to the Middleton cheerleaders, smiling when he saw Kim starting the squad on a routine. He noticed Oscar, jogging nearby, looking at Cindy, who was also on the squad. Ron almost laughed when he saw Bonnie.

Ron and KP had kept questioning Yori and Hirotaka about the incident at the cheerleader auditions. They had finally gotten the Japanese teens to admit that they were cousins (second cousins, to be exact) and that Hirotaka was flat out tired of hanging around with Bonnie. They had, indeed, staged the incident, giving Hirotaka a plausible excuse to avoid the queen of the food chain. Overnight, Bonnie had gone from sneering at the other girls on the squad for 'not having a boyfriend as hot as mine' to sneering at them for 'settling.' Of course, she was turning absolutely green whenever she saw Kim with Ron, or Oscar with Cindy, or Crystal with…"

Ron snapped himself to the here and now, taking his place as the team lined up for their pre-game warmups. The stadium erupted into applause as the Upperton Lemurs swarmed onto their side of the field. Both teams warmed up while the Upperton High School band entertained the crowd. Barkin stalked through his team, offering words of advice or encouragement.

"Williamsen, Stoppable," he rumbled as he reached his starting backfield. "As you know, the Upperton starting middle linebacker is Mat Soley, he was all-state last year and a shoe-in to get a 1-A scholarship next year. Are you two ready to deal with him?"

"Yes, sir," both teens told their coach, although Ron was showing some of his nerves.

"You going to be okay, Stoppable?" Barkin asked. "You're not going to freeze up on me out there, are you?"

"No way Mr. B," Ron assured him. "There won't be a repeat of my first match."

"I heard a little about it from Coach Winters," Barkin informed the boy. "He said you froze up and forgot to move."

"Coach B." Ron informed him. "I forgot I had feet **to** move. Anyway I'm not freezing up again."

"See that you don't," Barkin's tone carried a slightly threatening undertone. "How about you, Williamsen? Are you ready to make the blocks? That kid's got a good forty pounds on you."

"I'll hit him, Coach," Oscar promised. "He might put me on my butt, but I'll hit him."

"That's all I can ask," Barkin approved, then stalked off to talk to some more of his players.

Ron concentrated on stretching himself out and trying to relax. It would all start soon.

* * *

"Are you a little nervous, Shego?" Monkeyfist asked his companion, as they were leaving the ranch house. "It's been a number of months since you've been in action."

"I'm a pro, Monty. Don't worry about me." Then she paused a moment, "But yes, I'm almost as freakin' jittery as my first heist."

"Don't worry, I know you, you'll be fine," the nobleman assured her. "Just keep to our schedule, and we shall be successful."

"I know the schedule, monkey-boy," for some reason, her nickname didn't come off as insulting. "Just you get half-pint and get yourself back here. If I have to put up, alone, with the birdbrain; we just might be down a partner by the time the sun comes up again."

"I should be back well before you," he assured her. "I have only a single man to liberate while we have inflicted a full shopping list upon you."

"It was the best way to get it done," she shrugged. "But we're not getting it done by jawing at each other. I should be back around three AM or so."

"Shego?"

"Yeah, Monty?"

"I know that you do not require luck to perform your task," he declared. "Yet, I find myself wishing you good fortune. I also feel I must tell you that I'll be counting the minutes, with great anxiety, until you can return to me."

Shego couldn't keep the smile off of her face.

* * *

Ron pulled on his helmet and trotted onto the field with the rest of the offense. Upperton had taken the opening kickoff and had driven deep into the Middleton side of the field before the Mad Dogs' defense stiffened, forcing them to settle for a field goal. Middleton had a fair return on the following kickoff, starting their first possession of the season on their own 28.

The offense huddled up and the quarterback called Barkin's first play. The coach wasn't trying anything fancy, for now. He had called a basic, off-tackle run up the gut. The Mad Dogs broke their huddle and lined up.

"Hey sidekick!" Soley yelled from his linebacker position. "Bring it right here! I'm waiting for you!"

Ron decided to not return the trash talking. He listened as Bob, the quarterback, called out the signals. On the third **'Hut!'** Bob took the ball and stepped back, faking a handoff to Oscar, then cramming the ball into Ron's belly. Ron charged for the gap between the left tackle and guard, while Oscar ran between the left tackle and the center. Oscar and Soley met, with a jarring impact that sent Oscar stumbling backwards. Yet, the fullback had done his job, slowing the linebacker in his pursuit of Ron.

Ron darted past Soley, feeling the linebacker's hand brush his back as the safety came forward to make the tackle. Ron clutched the ball with both hands and kept his weight low, driving the safety back. Soley caught him from behind and drove him to the sod (forcing Ron forward another yard in the process.)

"I'm looking for you, sidekick!" Soley snarled at him, as they got to their feet.

"I'll be here," Ron snapped back, tossing the ball to the referee. It was now second down and three.

Back in the huddle, Bob called the play that Barkin had sent in. It was to be the same play, but to the other side of the line, on two instead of three. Middleton would keep hammering the ball into the center of the field until Upperton stopped them.

This time, Oscar managed to force Soley a half-step to the middle of the field, before the linebacker threw him to the side. An outside linebacker came forward to fill the gap Ron intended to run through, so he bounced his run to outside of the guard and sprinted for all he was worth. The strong safety caught him as he went by and clung to him, slowing Ron until the cornerback could come up and finish the tackle. Still, Ron had picked up twelve yards on the play.

Coach Barkin watched, satisfied, as his team drove down the field. After six plays, during which the Mad Dogs drove to the Upperton 38, Barkin saw what he was waiting for, the Upperton safeties cheating up to the line. He struck with the next play.

Ron set himself for the seventh play of the drive, trying to look like he had for the first six. Again, Bob took the ball from the center and faked a handoff to Oscar. This time, he faked the handoff to Ron. Ron charged into the line as Soley knocked Oscar to the ground yet again. The strong safety came up and delivered a solid blow, standing Ron up so that Soley could finish the tackle.

"Ball! Ball!" One of the Upperton linemen, realizing that Bob still had the ball, shouted a warning but it was too late. Bob spotted the tight end, wide open over the middle, where the safety normally would have been. The result was a twenty-two yard completion. Barkin wasn't finished. The next play, Bob pitched the ball to Ron, who ran for the end without even pretending to try to take the ball inside. Upperton, caught defending the middle of the field, couldn't catch him as he sprinted the sixteen yards into the end zone.

* * *

Aviarius dropped out of his vulture-aircraft and activated the folding wings in his suit. The wings, combined with the rocket pack on his back, gave him enough lift for a short burst of flight. He looked at the building in front of him, a physics research facility. The bird-obsessed villain launched one of his last falcon-missiles at a point between two windows on the third floor.

The missile blasted a hole in the wall. It wasn't a large hole, but it was enough for someone with his precision flying skills to pass through. This was the way to perform a heist! Not stalking around like some nervous rodent. He was the eagle, striking boldly and leaving so quickly that no lumbering, earthbound fool could catch him! Alarms rang as he swooped into the opening, burst through the room's door and flew down a corridor. A security door, flanked by two, stunned guards, loomed ahead of him.

Aviarius fired two hummingbird darts. The darts flew true, injecting the guards with tranquilizers. Both slumped, immobilized, before they could bring their pistols to bear on the incoming birdman. Aviarius didn't bother with the door, but fired another falcon missile at the wall to the right of it. Again, he blasted a small hole in the wall and again, he swooped through.

Technical staff scattered like panicking sparrows as he thundered into the laboratory. He quickly spotted the pan-dimensional vortex inducer, clamped in some machinery. He pulled his eagle-talon, a curved blade of especially hardened steel, from his belt. Like a bird of prey, he made several passes at the machine, using his velocity to slice the inducer free from its restraints. Snatching up his prize, he let loose a little bit of deception.

He released a burst of green energy from his wristband, blasting a hole in the ceiling. It had taken him days to construct the article and it could only fire the single burst yet, he hoped that when the flustered eggheads talked to the authorities, everyone would assume that he now possessed plasma powers, acquired from a certain green-tinged loudmouth. How was **that** for tactical thinking?

Aviarius flew up and into a hallway in the floor above the laboratory, even as additional security poured into the lab. He flew down the hall then launched his last missile at the end of the corridor, blasting a hole through the building's outer wall. Flying through, he ducked back into his vulture jet, which he had programmed to meet him at this point. Wasting no time, he opened the throttles, setting a course for Go City. After several minutes, when he was out of site of the witnesses who would report his course, he would change course to a certain farmhouse in Wyoming.

Aviarius smiled; **this** was the way to conduct an operation!

* * *

The Mad Dog offense trotted to the sidelines, finding water, sport's drinks, and spaces on the bench. Ron worked his way down the line, sharing high fives and congratulations as the special teams kicked the extra point. He ended at Oscar, who was moving just a little gingerly.

"You hurting?" Ron asked his friend.

"Not as much as I will be tomorrow," Oscar replied, with a somewhat pained smile.

"Okay Mad Dogs, listen up," Barkin growled to his starting offense. "Your execution needs work, but it could be worse. Now, we're forcing them to cheat their secondary up to stop the run. Soon, we're going to take advantage of that. Williamsen, how are you holding up?"

"I'm taking some hits, but I'm still in there," Oscar informed his coach.

"You're getting pounded, but you're accomplishing you're goal," Barkin informed him. "Those are tactical losses leading to a strategic victory."

"Coach," Oscar asked.

"Yes Williamsen?"

"How many of these tactical victories can that poor guy take?"

"Don't worry, Willliamsen," Barkin had a predatory grin. "You won't have to crack heads with him much longer."

* * *

Professor Dementor turned his head slowly, gazing with limited interest at the guard who had just approached his cell door.

"Ja, vhat does jou vant?" He asked the man.

"I have a business proposition for you," the man replied.

"I'm nein interested in buying der chocolate or der cigarettes!" The small man snapped.

"This proposition has nothing to do with such mundane matters," the guard assured him. Why, in the middle of the US, did the guard have a British accent?

"I have," the guard continued. "Or will soon have, the pan dimensional vortex inducer. Now, I have a few questions about this item, after which we can start to negotiate. Assuming that you are interested."

"Ja, ja, I'm most interested," Dementor almost drooled. "Vhat dos you need to know?"

"I'm interested in pulling…energies…from another reality," the guard managed to make this statement with a conversational tone. "Can you use the inducer to open a portal, making this possible?"

"Ja, ja, it's child's play to mein," Dementor assured him. "I just need to some zort of transmission, from der dimension you vant, to calibrate der inducer."

"Very good," the guard smiled. "Now, how long will it take to open such a portal."

"Vhell," Dementor mused. "It might take a couple of der weeks to build up der power source, but vonce dat's complete? Maybe ten minutes once I have der transmission."

"Excellent, now how about some negotiations?"

"I know vhat you vant of me, but vhat are you villing to provide?"

"Easy and straightforward, old boy," the guard assured him. "I'll provide your liberation from this facility, and will let you keep the inducer, once we've acquired these energies."

"Dat's all you vant from me? I agree to der terms!"

"That's all I require," the guard assured him, producing a glass bottle. "Now, you will need to do some fast running in a few minutes."

"Dat's no problem!"

"Somehow, I didn't think it would be."

And with that, a British nobleman, dressed as a prison guard, applied hyper-acid to a prison cell's bars.

* * *

Middleton's offense returned to the field. The Upperton offense had managed a short drive, then an excellent punt to pin the Mad Dogs on their own twelve yard line. The first play was a repeat of the first play of the game; Bob faked a handoff to Oscar before handing the ball to Ron. This time, Soley knocked Oscar back at Ron, forcing the tailback to avoid his fullback. Even so, Ron managed a four-yard pickup before Soley hammered him to the turf.

"You had your fun last drive, sidekick," the linebacker snapped at Ron, as they lay on the field. "But I've got your number now!"

"I'm still here and I ain't going anywhere," Ron snapped back. Then he thought how stupid that was to say, considering that his job was, to indeed, go somewhere.

Middleton ran two more, similar plays off tackle. With the Upperton defense keying on him, Ron struggled and barely made the first down on the third run. Seeing this, Barkin called his next play.

Bob took the snap just like his previous plays, held the ball out in front of Oscar. Only this time it wasn't a fake handoff. Oscar took the ball, lowered his head, and charged into the line. Soley swatted the fullback to one side and leveled Ron, only to realize that the tailback didn't have the ball. He wasn't the only one; by the time the Upperton defense realized who had the ball, Oscar was into the secondary. The fullback leveled a cornerback and kicked in all of the speed he possessed. The Upperton secondary caught him from behind and dragged him to the ground, but not before he had broken a 43-yard run.

The next play the Mad Dogs ran another 'Ron Stoppable off tackle' play, picking up six yards. On the next play, Bob faked handoffs to both Oscar and Ron, then tried to run the ball around the right side of the line. An alert, Upperton Cornerback spotted the quarterback keeper and tackled Bob in the backfield, loosing five of the six yards that Middleton had gained on first down. Barkin grinned and called another fullback run.

This time, Oscar ran for twenty-six yards, to the Upperton eight-yard line. Coach Barkin tried to call a quick, no-huddle play, but Upperton called timeout. Barkin was still pleased; he had forced the opposing coach to waste a timeout. He called his offense together and outlined the next play.

With the timeout over, Middleton lined up in the same formation they had used for every play. Bob took the snap and faked the handoff to Oscar, who ran into the middle of the line. He then faked a handoff to Ron, who ran around the end. Soley came up and hit Oscar, as the fullback came across the line. Realizing that he didn't have the ball, the linebacker shoved him aside and tried to locate the pigskin. He saw a cornerback and an outside linebacker bringing down Stoppable, then realized that the halfback didn't have the ball, either. He looked to the quarterback just in time to see him throw a pass to a wide-open Oscar Williamsen, standing in the end zone.

Oscar caught the ball, spotted an official to make sure that he was signaling the touchdown, the tossed the ball to the nearest official. The offense trotted off the field in high spirits, exchanging high fives and sending a few jeers towards the Upperton defense. The lighthearted mood vanished shortly after they got to the bench.

"Can the chatter!" Barkin snapped at his players, "we've still got a lot of football to play! We aren't doing to badly, but we've got to FOCUS people!

* * *

For Shego, it was like shopping in an exclusive store. She had already staked out the joint, so she knew a few things about the security procedures. For one thing, she had spotted the exterior alarm devices and had noted that they were bells, not enclosed horns. Her first order of business had been to tape some padding on the bell, right where the striker would hit it. She had also learned that security system made its 'I'm still here' call to the monitoring service at 8:30 every evening. Thus, she had cut the phone lines at 8:50 PM. The monitoring service wouldn't be alerted for almost 24 hours.

Now was the time for bold action. She burst through a window and kicked down the door to the security office, knowing that the on-duty watchman would be at the security panel, wondering why it was indicating a 'phone line dead' message. She was dressed in black fatigues and wearing a black mask, so the guard wouldn't recognize her and she wouldn't have to kill the man. She quickly overpowered him, silenced the security alarms she had activated by breaking the window then went on with her work.

There were three items that she wanted from this particular factory: A high frequency resonance generator, a high efficiency feedback eliminator, and an ultra-high frequency isolation transformer. She had no idea what any of these things actually did, but she was perfectly capable of reading part numbers on the packages. It took her roughly thirty minutes to locate the items in the cavernous warehouse, then she was on her way to her next target.

* * *

"Well Terry, it isn't looking good for our Lemurs," Brian, one of the local sports reporters for WKUT, an Upperton radio station, told his companion. It was halftime, and the two reporters were filling their listeners in on the action.

"I have to agree with you, Brian," the color-man responded. "Let's look at the numbers. Not only is Middleton up by a score of 21 to six, the statistics make this score seem tame. If Coach Barkin had tried, he could have probably put up another field goal at the end of the half. The Mad Dogs racked up over 250 yards of combined offense, with 187 of that on the ground. While it's been a team effort, we're going to have to talk about Ron Stoppable."

"One hundred and ten of Middleton's rushing yards have come from his legs," Brian agreed. "This kid has worked with Kim Possible for years, so it really shouldn't be surprising that he's an athlete."

"It's surprising that he isn't more well known," Terry continued. "There's still a lot of questions about him in the media. If you ask most celebrity reporters, they'll say that he's her sidekick. If you ask Kim Possible herself, she says that he's her partner. If you ask Stoppable, he says that he's her assistant."

"Well, whatever he is, he's giving Possible and the rest of the Middleton Cheerleaders plenty to cheer about," Brian concluded. "What do our Lemurs have to do in the second half to turn this game around?"

"On offense, they're going to have to open up the playbook," Terry informed him. "The Middleton defensive line is dominating the line of scrimmage; stuffing the run and getting good pressure on our quarterback. The Lemurs are going to have to start rolling the quarterback out of the pocket, giving him time to throw and maybe giving him some running lanes."

"How about our defense?" Brian prompted.

"They're going to have to gamble," Terry announced. "I'd say that they're going to have to blitz, and maybe execute some cornerback or safety blitzes. Middleton is just grinding up this defense right now. It's time to take some chances."

"Alright, Terry, it looks like the teams have returned to the field. For those of you just joining us, Middleton is dominating the game; up twenty-one to six and they get the ball to start the second half."

Ron trotted onto the field with the rest of the Middleton team. Now, he felt confident enough to join some of his teammates in waving to the Middleton section of the stands. He spotted his 'rents, with Hanna. Yori and Hirotaka were there, as well, having asked the Stoppables if they could catch a ride. Ron waved to them, then waved to Mr. and Mrs. Dr. P, who had also made the trip.

Coach Barkin put in his 'hands' team for the kickoff, expecting an onside kick. The opposing coach, however, executed a standard kickoff, resulting in Middleton having lousy field position, on their own sixteen. The Mad Dogs offense took the field.

The Mad Dogs executed their usual play, but the radio announcers had predicted Upperton's defensive actions. Ron ran into the middle of a blitz, struggling to gain three yards. Barkin called an outside run next, but Upperton ran a safety blitz, and the oncoming strong safety caught Ron for no gain. Seeing what was happening on the field, Barkin smiled and implemented the plan he had come up with when selecting his undersized backfield.

Middleton came out and aligned themselves in their usual, I formation. While Bob called signals, Oscar went in motion and lined up as a slot receiver to the right side. Then Ron when in motion and lined up as a slot receiver on the left side. Middleton had gone from a power rushing formation to a spread formation. At the snap, Ron sprinted down the field while the receiver outside of him slanted to the inside. Oscar slanted inside while his outside receiver stretched the field. The Upperon blitz closed in on Bob as Oscar broke free. Bob caught him in stride, and the fullback picked up twelve yards.

Coach Barkin kept changing formations for the rest of the quarter, keeping the Upperton defense off balance. While the Upperton offense managed some increased success, the Mad Dog offense was unstoppable. Middleton scored two more touchdowns that quarter, with Upperton scoring one. The 'dogs went into the fourth quarter with a commanding lead.

* * *

She still had it! Shego was on her third, and final, stop of the night. She had picked up three components at the manufacturing plant, and another two items at the research facility. Now, she found herself in a warehouse, specializing in industrial electronics. She had to pick up two, step-up transformers. Apparently, Dementor's devices used extremely high voltages.

She was gratified to know that she had been correct; move fast, do the unexpected, and the other team couldn't stop you. This warehouse wasn't even guarded, the owners depended on a security system and an occasional visit from an outside security company. The on-duty guard had a flat tire, and the phone lines were cut. Shego had four hours before the security panel was due to call the monitor. She would only need thirty minutes.

Just to keep in form, Shego scaled an outside wall and scaled in through a skylight. She used her flashlight to spot the items she needed. Looking at the tags, she chuckled at the irony that the Middleton Space Center wouldn't get their transformers on schedule. She opened a bay door, backed her truck inside, and loaded the transformers. She used a forklift, in case there were hidden cameras. She didn't want to let anybody know that this black-clad figure had extreme strength. Finally, she climbed into the cab and started to drive. She was facing several hours on the road, both because of her circuitous route and because she would transfer the fruits of her labors to another truck. She had stolen this truck, earlier, from a general contractor.

Shego found a rock station and settled in for the drive. Oh yeah! It was good to be back. 'I CAN'T DRIVE, FIFTY-FIVE!' Bared from the radio as she drove off into the night.

Halfway through the fourth quarter, Ron found a gap in the tiring, Lemur defense and broke off a seventy-two yard touchdown run, putting the Mad Dogs up by twenty-six points. With an insurmountable lead, Barkin pulled his starters off of the field. The Upperton coach followed suit and the Middleton fans gave their starters a big cheer off the field. The rest of the game was anti-climatic. The reserves from both teams hammered away at each other, but scored no additional points. The final seconds ticked off and the teams swarmed onto the field.

Ron was surprised when Soley looked up him and Oscar to congratulate them on the victory, and compliment them on a well-played game. The two Middleton boys, Oscar in particular, praised his efforts. Kim and Cindy arrived, each giving her boyfriend a big hug and a quick peck on the cheek. The school officials tended to relax the PDA rules in the aftermath of a game, but the teens knew better than to push the issue. Soon, the Possibles and the Stoppables arrived, as well as Felix. Ron couldn't help but feel proud when Felix told him that his two hundred forty-three yards rushing was both the most in school history, for an away game, as well as the most that Upperton had ever given up to a single back during a home game. The chatter went on for perhaps fifteen minutes before Barkin bellowed for his players to hit the showers. Ron smiled, it had been a very good game.

* * *

Shego pulled the truck into the farmyard and, just has he promised, Monty was quickly out the door, followed by the squat form of Professor Dementor. Shego barely managed to open the door and step onto the running board when the nobleman swept her into a fierce embrace,

"Are you well, Shego?" He asked her, not lowering her to the ground. Shego was stunned, even Drakken would have been more interested in her mission than her well-being.

"Piece of cake, Monty," she assured him. She gave him a quick, but emotional kiss, not even concerned that Dementor might be watching. She didn't need to worry, the mad scientists was already digging through the trucks contents.

"I see you got half-pint," she told him, as he finally lowered her to the ground. "How did birdbrain do with the gizmo?"

"He's already retrieved it, and has returned to his own abode," Fisk informed her. "Dementor seems unwilling to allow the inducer out of his sight."

Shego walked to the back of the truck and looked inside, to where Dementor was already inspecting her haul. She noticed that he was carrying the inducer in one hand.

"I zall ztart immediately!" He declared.

While Shego watched, bemused, the undersized villain scampered to the barn and fired up the forklift. Soon, he was unloading the equipment that Shego had acquired. He seemed to be very happy.

"I showed him to his lodgings," Fisk informed her. "But he seemed determined to construct his device as soon as possible, despite the late hour."

'Drakken was the same way," she informed him. "Once he got an idea in his head, he wanted to work on it."

"I'm glad that you've returned safely," Monty informed her.

"Same here," she agreed. "Oh, something you should know."

"Yes,"

"Well, two things," She smiled at him. "First of all, I think that Dementor is going to be very busy for the next several hours, at least."

"I suspect you are correct," Fisk agreed. "What is the second item."

"I've just remembered," she pulled him very close, so that she could whisper into his ear. "A good heist always stirs my blood."

* * *

"The final test is complete, I have successfully converted a spider monkey into a howler monkey," DNAmy dictated into her recorder. "This test was much more complicated that the procedure required too cure my employer, therefore I am ready. I will retain the test subjects at this facility until after my employer's procedure is completed."

Amy transmitted her message to her employer, confident that he would soon contact her and arrange transportation to her facility. She instructed her staff to double check the quarters she had prepared.

"Again, this monkey seems somewhat aggressive," she recorded on a private file. "Almost like it has a sense of…entitlement. It's not a psychopath, at least for a monkey, but it demands the first crack at food and the most desirable sleeping platforms. I consider this to be minor and inconsequential."

Amy closed off her recording and headed to her private quarters. She had been awake for over thirty hours straight, but it was worth it. Soon, she would fulfill her obligations to her employer, receive a generous payment, and be free to rejoin her love.

* * *

_A/N: Thank you all for being patient with me. I hope that the wait was worth it. I hope to update once a week._

_Again, my thanks for the reviews and PMs. The encouragement and ideas have been great._

_Thanks to Joe Stoppinghem, for his great Beta services._

_Until next time, best wishes;_

_daccu65_


	22. Contemplation

Chapter 22: Contemplation

Kim hopped off of the back of Ron's motorcycle and recovered their book bags from the 'saddlebag' cargo carriers while he set the kickstand. She tossed him his bag and the two of them linked arms and walked into the school building. They usually walked to school, but on Friday, a home game night, they rode his bike. There was a gap of a few hours between the last class of the day and when they had to be at the stadium, and they didn't want to waste time walking home then back to the school.

Kim frowned a little, thinking of the past week. On the surface, things were great but there were two items that were bothering her.

The first and most obvious issue was Fisk and Aviarius's actions during last week's game. She remembered the bus ride back to Middleton, at how their feelings of joy and triumph were crushed when they learned that the two villains had simultaneously helped Dementor escape and had stolen the inducer, while Team Possible had been at the game. The two teens had been in a severe funk until Dr. Director invited them to a meeting. The invitation had, of course, come in the form of the teens stepping, unexpectedly, into one of GJ's vacuum tubes.

Kim and Ron had been deposited in a conference room, where Dr. Director personally briefed them about the situation, once their heart rates had returned to something resembling normal. She had made it clear, from the start, that they were in no way responsible for failing to stop the two criminals.

"You're teenagers," she had informed them, in her crisp, direct manor. "You're supposed to be doing teenage things, like homework, cheerleading, athletics, and dating. It's the duty of Global Justice, and the various law enforcement agencies to detect and halt these activities." This information made Kim feel a little better but she wasn't sure about Ron, who was still muttering something about GJ's aversion to stairs and elevators.

The remainder of the briefing had been technical in nature. GJ didn't have any clue what Fisk and Aviarius were up to. The various experts agreed that it had been a smart move, on the villains' part, to grab both Dementor and the inducer at the same time. They also stressed the fact that Aviarius had used a bolt of green plasma, which seemed to confirm that he had taken Shego's power, and that Shego was most likely dead. One of the experts had questioned why he had only fired one bolt, which had resulted in a heated debate. Dr. Director had dismissed the teens during this discussion.

They had managed a fairly typical weekend after that. Saturday afternoon, Yori and Hirotaka showed up for a light workout (Ron had gotten a little banged up during the game). Saturday evening was date night (dinner, movie, make-out session). Sunday afternoon was last minute homework check. Afterwards, they watched Hanna while Ron's 'rents took some time off.

All in all, Kim knew that they shouldn't feel guilty about Fisk and Aviarius pulling their heists, but her innate Kim-ness just wouldn't let her off the hook. Shaking her head, she looked at Ron and frowned again. The second item that had her concerned was her BFBF's recent behavior.

Spirit Week had started off fine. She and Ron seemed to be really getting into the activities. The only odd item had been Monday, when Ron had decided to take on an extra credit assignment for his business class. Apparently, he was calculating the cost savings associated with providing elevators, rather than people-moving vacuum tubes. Kim was certain that he would be presenting his findings to Dr. Director in the near future.

The first problem had been when Mr. Barkin insisted that everyone on his team obtain, and wear, letter jackets.

"It shows pride in your team and your school," the big man had informed the football players. "I have no place for someone who does not show the appropriate pride."

This decision hadn't sat very well with either Ron or Oscar, but they had complied. It was even rougher for Oscar. Mr. Mickman, realizing that the Williamsen's finances were a little tight, donated a jacket for Oscar. Now, Oscar felt obligated to wear it frequently. Ron, the never be normal kid, now looked quite dashing in his letter jacket, with his wrestling letter displayed.

The only problem was that Ron's mood had soured as the week progressed. Spirit week was intended to increase pride in the school, highlighting the football team. Despite the fact that Ron was the team's biggest, and most surprising, star performer, he didn't enjoy the attention he was receiving. At first, Kim thought that he was just shy, but she soon realized that he absolutely loathed the attention he was receiving. The biggest problem was that with the hectic schedule, she hadn't had an opportunity to pin him down and force him to spill. He was making a real effort to appear happy and gracious and Kim was willing to bet that only she, and maybe Felix, really knew that he was tweaked.

Kim sighed; at least it would soon be over. The game was tonight, and the final event, the Spirit Dance, would take place after the game. She would have plenty of time, this weekend, to find out what was bothering him.

* * *

Shego followed the small creek from the dojo area. Dementor was still working on his gizmo, Aviarius was, thankfully, at his own safe house and the inactivity was starting to grate on her. As she expected, she found Monty at his excavation site. She paused, unnoticed, under the cover of the trees and watched him for a short time.

Shego wasn't a geological expert, but she realized that the creek was pretty unique. It sprang out of the ground, flowed for perhaps a half mile, then sunk back into the earth. Over the centuries, it had cut a steep, narrow valley in the surrounding arid prairie. Shortly after Monty had brought Dementor to the place, Shego made a remark about missing her swimming pool. Monty immediately set to work building a small dam, so that she would have a place to swim. On his first attempt, he had uncovered the remains of a stone-age settlement. Ever the serious archaeologist, he went to work excavating the site after building the dam at another location.

It wasn't like he was neglecting her; they still worked out every morning. Every night…well, even the times they weren't doing…it…they still shared the same bed. Surprisingly, Shego found that she enjoyed sleeping with him, as in sleeping in the same bed in which he was sleeping. For all that she was a hardened criminal and a proud, seasoned mercenary, she was very much in love.

Shego realized that she was bored, and jealous that her companions had both found something to do. She wasn't an electrician or a physicist, so she wasn't able to help half-pint, even if he would put up with anyone looking at his work. As for helping her lover, she would be reduced to vaporizing the artifacts out of sheer frustration. Still, she admired his intensity, attention to detail, and dedication.

That brought up a question, one that she wouldn't have even thought of asking a couple of weeks ago. Still, she figured that there was no time like the present, although she wanted to find a different setting for the conversation. She stepped out of the trees and approached her lover.

"Ah, Shego," he greeted her as she approached. "How may I be of service?"

"Well, Monty, it's kind of hot out and I thought I'd take a swim. Of course, it's dangerous to swim alone." She gave him a pointed look.

"I'll admit to being overly warm, as well," he replied, bagging and tagging what appeared to be an arrowhead. "I shall run to the house and retrieve my…" He trailed off at her amused glance. "Then again, we are in a rather informal setting, aren't we?"

"You don't get much informaler," she agreed.

"I don't believe that's a word, my dear," he informed her, climbing to his feet.

"When you're in the informal-est of settings, who cares?"

The two of them skinny-dipped for over an hour, enjoying the cool, refreshing water. Finally, somewhat tired, they reclined, in the water, on some strategically placed stones. In this relaxed setting, Shego felt comfortable asking him:

"Monty, why did you even get into crime, anyway?" At his odd look, she clarified, "I mean, you're minor nobility, and you were able to draw a comfortable living from your estate. Not only that, but you really like digging stuff up and examining it. You could have stayed busy and happy for your whole life, why turn to the dark side?"

"I guess it began by my involvement in Tai Shen Pek Kwar, or Monkey Kung-fu," he replied, smiling at the way she described his current life. "I was conducting an excavation near a remote, Chinese village. As was my habit, I tried to work with the locals, preserving their heritage. The monks at a temple appreciated my efforts and chose to share their heritage with me."

"Okay, you learned Kung-fu, how did that make you a criminal?"

"I couldn't help but combine it with archeology, my other great interest," he continued. "This led, almost inexorably, to studying the discipline's history. Soon, I uncovered rumors about some lost statues and the rest, as the saying goes, is history."

"So you've gone to crime to gain the monkey power?"

"Indeed, I am destined to wield the Mysterious Monkey Power! How else could you explain the odd coupling of talents needed to unearth the statues? A man who is both a master of Tai Sheng Pek Kwar, and an expert archaeologist, is an unusual individual."

"But the sidekick took it before you could complete the grab?" She asked.

"That's crudely phrased, but accurate."

"So, you stepped up to the challenge and found another way," she prompted.

"Indeed, and I'll admit that I almost prefer utilizing Dementor and Aviarius," he informed her. "As this method promises to provide me with my rightful power, while allowing young Ronald to survive."

"You don't want to kill him?" Shego was incredulous.

"Indeed no," he retorted. "I actually have a great deal of respect for the young man. After I have obtained my rightful power, paid off my debts, and established my empire, I hope to make him my apprentice. After all, I shall not live forever and I have no heirs."

"Yeah, about that," Shego muttered. "I know we're together right now and all, and I'm not in any hurry to move on, but I'll understand if you ever find someone who can…you know…give you…"

"Shego," he said, sharply. "As you said, we are together. I believe that fate called for me to wield the Mystical Monkey Power and I believe that fate put the two of us together. I am yours, for as long as you want me. The fact that we cannot reproduce does not bother me. Should you ever decide to look into the matter, let me know and we will consult any such experts that we require."

For some reason, Shego couldn't keep the smile from her face.

* * *

_-Question…Why have you requested the large, medical staff…Question-_

"While I have every confidence in the procedures," DNAmy explained. "I want to be extra sure. We will have emergency medical technicians monitoring you 24/7, and I and a trauma surgeon will be on call, during your entire immersion."

_-Question…The physical therapy team…Question-_

"Your muscles have atrophied over the years. When you emerge, you will be physically weak and will have to learn to use your body all over again. The physical therapists are experts at helping a patient re-learn these basic tasks."

_-This sounds sensible to me-_

"May I assume that you have a cover story in place?" Amy asked, "it will be embarrassing if someone comes looking for you."

_-My affairs are in order and my cover story is good for two months. Question…when can we proceed…Question-_

"I am ready to start immediately."

_-So am I-_

DNAmy went to work. She had her employer's medical specialists assist her, so that they would be better able to monitor his progress. She injected the brain stem cells, spliced with restructuring genes, and immersed him in the tank. As with the monkeys, she filled the tank with the proper chemicals and started the anesthetics, nutrients, and proper medications flowing through the IV tubes. In just under an hour, the healing procedure was in progress. Now, it was just a matter of watching and waiting.

* * *

Ron finished dressing, moving a little bit gingerly. He was hardly a football expert, having just completed his second game, but this game had been rough. The Lowerton defense, having heard about his exploits against Upperton, had started the game keying on him. Unfortunately for them, that had freed up the receivers, and Oscar. Halfway through the second quarter, Lowerton had been forced to deal with the entire Middleton offense, freeing Ron up to rack up some running yards. He had finished with two hundred and thirty yards, most of it in the second half.

After the game, his parents had met him on the field again, praising his efforts and urging him to have a good time at the Spirit Dance. His mother, in particular, insisted that he not get home until after 10:30. Now, sitting in the locker room, getting ready to walk out into the gym with the rest of the team, he hoped that he would be able to keep his temper in check. After all, he was one of the heroes, he had the most badical girlfriend in the world up there, and he had his small circle of close friends to hang with.

Still, the entire situation had him irritated.

Finally, the last of the team was dressed and ready. They walked out of the locker room and into the gym, to the tumultuous applause of their classmates.

The cheerleader's spy, at the top of the stairs leading to the boy's locker room, waved at Kim. Kim called for the squad to start their routine, which prompted the band to start the pre-selected song. The football team walked into the gym, in the midst of a delightful cacophony of cheering, music, and enthusiasm. As soon as the cheerleader's finished their routine and the band finished the song, Barkin took the stage.

"Alright people, listen up!" Was the man even capable of stating an announcement with another phrase? "I want to thank each and every one of you for showing up at the game, and for showing up here. LET'S HEAR IT FOR MIDDLETON HIGH!"

The student body erupted into enthusiastic yells.

"Okay people," He continued, once the din had settled a bit. "Remember that this dance is a school function, so behave yourselves, keep the PDA reasonable, and have fun."

Without another word, the big man stalked off the stage while the student DJ started up the stereo system. Traditionally, the cheerleaders started off the celebration with their own dance number on stage. Kim led her squad onto the stage, noting that Ron was walking towards the bleachers, where the band was starting to file out of the gym.

The band members left the gym, passing through a hallway to the music room, where they would stash their instruments. Most of them would return to enjoy the dance. Ron placed himself at the end of the hallway, thanking each and every band member for performing at the game. For some reason, thanking them made him feel better about Spirit Week. Soon, however, the band members had all left the gym. He walked back into the gym, where the cheerleading squad was just finishing their routine. As soon as they were done, he and KP got together for the first dance of the new school year. Dancing with Kim, he was able to push his irritation down. When the song was finished, Kim spotted Helen, one of the band's drummers.

"Ron, I want to have a word with Helen," she told him. "The drummers do some rips during the game, and I want to have them practice with us this week, so that we can do routines to the beat."

"Sounds good, KP, I'll just hang out and watch the action."

Kim smiled at her BFBF, fondly patted his cheek, and was off to talk to Helen. Ron walked off the dance floor, looking for his friends. Hirotaka was cutting some moves, not dancing with anyone in particular. Yori and Felix were dancing, the ninja the definition of grace and his closest, male friend showing off the maneuvers he could do in his ultra-light chair. Oscar and Cindy were also dancing and Monique seemed to be deep in conversation with a small group of girls. Jim and Tim were on the dance floor, showing off some of their pep-puppy moves. Left to himself, he wandered to one wall, leaned against it, and indulged in a bit of people watching. He hadn't seen Tara share a quick word with Kim.

"Kim," Tara had intercepted the squad leader. "Do you mind if I dance with Ron?"

"Not at all," Kim smiled at her friend. "Keep him limbered up! Just one thing?"

"Yes?"

"All of the slow dances are mine."

"No problem," with that, Tara walked up to Ron.

"Hey Ron," she greeted the former mascot. "Care for a dance, to remember the old squad?" She smiled, fondly at the blond boy.

For Ron, this invitation to dance brought back all of the irritation that he had managed to push down. He choked back a snarl, reminding himself that Tara didn't mean to upset him, she had just asked for a friendly dance.

"I don't think that I'd be very good company," he answered her. "Thank you Tara, but no." With that, he spun on his heel and stalked towards the front door.

"Ron, what's wrong?" Tara asked, moving to follow him. "Was it something I said? What's wr-"

"JUST!" Ron snapped, before regaining control of his temper. He took a deep breath then, "just drop it, Tara, please. It's not you, okay? Trust me, you don't want to be around me just now." He turned, once again, towards the door and stalked off, leaving a thoroughly confused, blond cheerleader standing open-mouthed.

Unknown to Ron, several people had heard his short outburst. One of them had been Felix, who quickly followed his best friend, intent on finding out why Ron was upset. Another was Kim, who quickly ran up to Tara, to find out what had happened. A third person also overheard, and stood a short distance away, listening to the conversation.

"What happened?" Kim demanded of Tara.

"I don't know," Tara was still, obviously, confused. "I just asked Ron if he would like to dance and it was like I had just insulted him! He told me that I wouldn't want to be near him and left."

"You didn't say anything else? Kim pressed.

"Of course not!" Tara was indignant. "Do you think I'm going to insult him? I just asked if he'd like to dance, to remember that we used to be teammates and he got upset!"

"He's been wound up lately," Kim conceded, making an apologetic gesture towards Tara. "I've been too busy to find out what's bothering him, but it looks like I better find out now." Kim spun and headed for the door, Tara right behind her, only to be intercepted by…

"Sue?"

"I couldn't help but overhear," the thin, clarinet player told the two cheerleaders. "You know, for such smart kids, the two of you can really be clueless, can't you?"

Kim and Tara were taken aback by her outburst, although Kim did spot Felix rolling out the door, clearly looking for Ron.

"What do you mean?" Tara found her voice first.

Sue gestured for the two of them to follow her out of the main crowd. "You really don't understand why he hates Spirit Week, and the Spirit Dance?" She sounded incredulous.

"Look, I've tried to apologize to him about the closet," Kim began, feeling hurt that Ron had confided in Sue before her.

"Closet?" Both Sue and Tara asked, simultaneously. Kim suddenly felt a lot better.

"Never mind," she said, shaking her head. "Okay, tell us, why does he hate the Spirit Dance so much?"

"Who did he go to the dance with, last year?" Sue asked the two cheerleaders.

"I don't recall seeing him there," Tara mused. Kim, of course kept quiet. She knew perfectly well where he had been.

"That's because nobody would go with him," Sue explained. "He told me about this last year, just before we started to…" here she gave Kim a pointed look. "Date exclusively. He told me that he had asked almost every girl he knew, at the time, and that all of you turned him down. He said that being told no didn't really bother him, but the fact that the entire squad laughed at him did."

Tara, her mouth hanging open, suddenly looked at the floor.

"I thought that he was just fooling around," the blonde girl admitted.

"That's what you food chain elite don't quite get," Sue, the timid, quiet girl, snapped at the cheerleaders. "You seem to think that us band-geeks, mathletes, debate team members and chess clubbers are some kind of inferior life form! Was the very thought that he would ask a…gasp…CHEERLEADER something to be ridiculed? I've got a clue for you, it didn't even occur to him that you were cheerleaders, you were the girls that he knew. Yet, somehow the fact that you were cheerleaders meant that when he asked you, it had to be a joke. After all, he was just…Ron and you were CHEERLEADERS. And you wonder why Spirit Week, a whole week dedicated to celebrating the very food chain elite who treated him like dirt, has him on edge?"

"And now with Barkin insisting that he wear that jacket," Kim added. "He sees himself as turning into one of the people he despised so much. He's the star player, and a letterman in another sport. He's actually fairly high on the food chain, if he wants to be."

"And that scares him," Tara concluded. "He never wants to humiliate someone else like that." The blonde girl paused. "You know, I don't recall seeing him at the dance last year. Why didn't he just show up stag? And what's this about a closet, Kim?"

"I won't say," Kim had developed an intense interest in the floor in between her feet. "It's embarrassing. The only thing that I'll say is that I hurt him more than the rest of the squad combined." She looked up and said, "Thanks for telling me this, Sue. It wasn't pleasant, but it was something that I had to hear."

"Me too," Tara added. "Kim, if you don't mind, I think I'll go apologize to your boyfriend."

"To be honest, I want to have a word with him, as well," Kim confessed.

Sue stayed behind as the cheerleaders went out to find their former mascot. They found him sitting on the curb, talking with Felix.

"…so I guess I overreacted and now Tara's probably hurt and confused, as well," the blond boy was saying to his friend as they arrived.

"I was confused, and my feelings were hurt," Tara supplied, causing both boys to spin around. "But I think I understand now. I'm…sorry that I laughed at you, when you asked me to the dance last year. I'm not going to apologize for not going with you, but it wasn't right to laugh at you like that."

"Thanks, Tara," Ron said simply. "And I'm sorry for snapping at you. I'm sorry for being a bad boyfriend this week, Kim."

"You've had your reasons," she forgave him, sitting next to him and resting a hand on his shoulder. "I didn't really give you a reason to enjoy this week, last year, as well."

"Yeah, I'm mostly over that, or at least I should be," Ron shrugged his shoulders. "Look, I'm not trying to make anybody hurt any worse than they are, but could I ask the three of you something, in confidence?"

"Sure," all three teens replied, failing to call a jinx in the seriousness of the moment.

"Does being a good athlete really make that much difference?" He asked. "I mean…I mean last year I couldn't get a date, and I'm willing to bet that Kim would have been the only girl to dance with me if I had shown up and asked."

Tara bit her lip, wondering if she would have danced with the blond boy, risking Bonnie's cutting remarks, last year.

"It does to some people," Tara confessed. "And a lot of us let ourselves be swayed by what those people think."

"That's not right," Ron mumbled. "I mean, I'm still 'Ron', aren't I? Just because I can carry a football, while the line does most of the work, am I so different from last year?"

"You shouldn't be," Felix told him. "But like Tara said, perceptions become reality."

"I said that?" Tara smiled and the boy in the wheelchair. "I sound a whole lot more profound when you quote me."

"It still isn't right," Ron insisted. "Why do students get treated so badly because they're not athletic, or talented, or wealthy, or good looking?"

"Remembering your time on the business end of the food chain?" Kim sympathized with him.

"I **hate** the food chain!" Ron snarled.

"Then show everyone that it doesn't mean anything to you," Felix suggested. "You did pretty well tonight, thanking the band members for playing at the game. I don't think that any jock has done that before. SHOW everyone that you're still the same old Ron, just with some skills that nobody really suspected before. Prove to everyone that you don't have to look down at everyone else, just because you're at the top of the heap."

"And you can take your frustrations out on Dementor, the next time we see him," Kim concluded.

"Yeah, I owe him," Ron smiled, standing up. "I usually get to loot his pantry when we take him down. That last time, all I came up with was that bag of flour."

"Why do you loot his pantries?" Kim asked, smiling herself. Her goofy Ron seemed ready to make his reappearance.

"Dementor always has the best bratwurst," Ron informed her.

"Bratwurst!? That doesn't make any sense," Tara was confused.

"It does if he has sauerkraut, as well," Oscar chimed in, walking up to the group with Cindy on his arm.

"He always does," Ron confirmed, smiling.

"What's the big deal about bratwurst and sauerkraut?" Kim asked.

"It's the finest comfort food ever produced," Felix informed her.

"It's practical, as well," Oscar added. "When I was a boy-scout, we always had bratwurst and kraut for our last meal of the day, whenever we camped in the winter."

"Why?" Tara asked, missing Cindy's desperate wave for her to not ask.

"Warmth," Oscar informed her, with a perfectly straight face. "Once you got a stomach full of bratwurst and kraut and crawled into the sleeping bag, that bed would be warm and toasty in about a half hour."

Tara and Kim both realized why, at about the same time.

"Eeeewww."

"Hey, don't knock it!" Oscar insisted.

"I bet that it made it easy to get the fire started the next morning," Ron chimed in.

"Oh, yes!" Oscar agreed. "We always had plenty of accelerant. We just looked for a kid with a painful grimace. If you saw somebody with an expression of immense relief, you knew he wouldn't be providing any, at least for awhile."

"I think we've heard about enough on this subject," Cindy said, firmly. She grabbed her BF's arm and steered him back towards the gym.

"I guess she's right," Ron agreed, offering Kim his arm. "It seems that I should take this opportunity to dance with the worlds greatest girlfriend, Felix has a really pretty girl waiting for him inside, and I owe my former teammate a dance, as well."

Kim was content. She had her goofy Ron back. All it had taken was some soul searching, some comments on social status, and a few jokes about bodily functions.

* * *

_A/N:_

_Before you make any comments, let me state that in my last story, I adjusted the show's canon and placed the events of 'Crush' and 'Blush' in the junior year, shortly before the events of 'Exchange.' I enjoy the reviews, just please don't waste your time pointing out my flaws in the KP timeline. Thank you._

_A big thank-you to Joe Stoppinghem for, once again, applying nose to grindstone and beta reading this ongoing tale._

_Also, thanks to all of you who have taken the time to read and review._

_Until my next update, best wishes._

_daccu65_


	23. The Break

Chapter 23: The Break

"The parole board will now hear the case of Mr. Edward Lipsky."

The door opened, and a very large, blonde-haired man, accompanied by his attorney, walked in. Ed Lipsky stood in a relaxed posture, allowing his hands, adorned with cuffs, to hang at his waist. The chairman of the board motioned him to a chair, and Ed seated himself.

"Very well," the chairman began. "Mr. Lipsky, do you and your lawyer understand this situation?"

"Seriously, I think we do," Ed told him. "The way I understand it, you dudes have some serious overcrowding problems in the prison. You're looking to move a bunch of us to some other joints to make room for the real nasty types."

"Er…close enough," the chairman conceded. "In light of the fact that we feel you were coerced into some of your violent actions, we are considering releasing you to a supervised, house arrest facility."

"Seriously!?" Ed enthused. "That would be knarly if I knew what that meant!"

"It means that they take you out of here and put you in a house," his lawyer informed him. "You can get a job, but you have a limited amount of time to get to and from work every day. You will also wear some sort of tracking device."

"An ankle bracelet," the chairman confirmed.

"Oh,' Ed nodded. "It's kind of like living with mom. You'll keep track of everything I do."

"Indeed," the chairman agreed. "Now, let's discuss your case."

For the next hour, the parole board and Ed's attorney discussed and argued the big man's legal status. Finally…

"Mr. Lipsky, we have chosen to parole you for the remainder of your witness tampering sentence. Part of the conditions of this parole is that you refrain from associating with known felons."

"I seriously hate to say this," Ed grumbled. "But I can't do that, seriously."

"Why not?" His lawyer glared at him.

"I've still got my sentence for premeditated assault," Ed explained. "That means I'm back in the big house, there's over a thousand inmates in there, I've got to hang with 'em and every last one of 'em's a convicted felon, seriously!"

This honest statement prompted another intense debate between the parole board and Ed's lawyer. Finally…

"Mr. Lipsky," The chairman told him. "We are going to recommend that you be paroled to the house arrest facility for the remainder of you witness tampering sentence, and that your premeditated assault sentence be suspended, pending your successful completion of your parole cycle.

Ed couldn't help but smile. Sure, this house arrest facility sounded more stiff than living with mom, or cousin Drew's mom, but at least he could get a boom box and crank some tunes. Maybe he could find that job as a mechanic and maybe bring a little work home. Then, he could show the skinny dude a thing or two about a sweet ride.

* * *

DNAmy walked out of her quarters and into the makeshift, physical therapy room. Her employer had spent roughly three weeks in the artificial womb, emerging three days ago. Preliminary tests indicated complete success but Amy wouldn't be satisfied until her employer, and patient, made a complete recovery. Stepping inside the room, she saw the thin man in a stationary, swimming tank. With the tank's pumps set on their lowest setting, the man was managing to remain stationary against the current. Amy kept out of the way, waiting until the man's rehab specialists were done with him.

After several minutes, the specialists decided that the man had had enough. They fished him out of the pool and helped him to his chair. The chair was an ultra-light wheelchair, without any motors. He was forced to use his atrophied muscles to move. Seeing Amy, he wheeled in her direction.

"How are you doing, today?" Amy asked him.

"Tired and sore," he answered, with a broad grin. "I forgot that muscles could hurt so much, and I'm loving every minute of it."

"About the chair…' Amy prompted.

'My leg muscles can't support my weight for more that a few steps," he informed her. "At least, not yet. My specialists say that I should be up to walking, as my standard form of movement, within weeks." His voice was weak from disuse, but she could pick out the inflections now.

"Well, I came by to see if I could dismantle our testing facility," Amy told him. "I've already sent records of the procedures to your office. While our activities are not illegal, at least under our host country's laws, I have missed several parole meetings. The longer I keep this facility in operation, the greater my chance of being discovered."

"Do so," he instructed her. "My full resources are at your disposal. I wish to compliment you on a job well done." He sighed, "I worked with so-called experts for years and you have cured me in a matter of months. You will find twice our agreed payment in your account by the end of the week."

"Thank you, but that wasn't necess…"

"I'm not a scientist," he interrupted. "I'm a very capable industrialist. If there's one thing I've learned, you reward outstanding production. You've earned every penny." He paused a moment, "have you ever considered…enhancing humans?"

"What sort of enhancements?" She asked.

"Not the cuddlebuddy enhancements that you've done in the past," he clarified. "But simple enhancements; stronger, smarter, larger."

"I've done some preliminary research," she admitted. "Using gigantopithecus DNA for size. Why do you ask?"

"No reason at this time," he replied. "But keep our communication channels open once we're done here. I'll be heading back to the 'States on Friday but I may have further use of your talents in the future."

With that, the man was off for a meeting with a nutritionist, and DNAmy was off to supervise the dismantling of the laboratory. Since the equipment was still valuable, she executed pre-made arrangements to deliver the material to her Wyoming ranch. It would take months for the equipment to travel the deceptive path she had worked out, but it would get there. As for her monkey test subjects, she performed one last surgery, implanting them with tracking chips, before releasing them.

* * *

Kim relaxed in the leather seat, relishing the comfort as she gazed, with amused tolerance, at her BFBF playing video games with Wade. She decided that there was definitely something to said for traveling via a private, luxury aircraft.

This past week had been tumultuous, to say the least. It had started last Friday during the Homecoming game when Bonnie, reaching a new personal low, had somehow convinced Ron Reiger to rig the computerized voting for Homecoming Queen. Granted, the only proof Kim had that the voting was rigged was the fact that everybody **but** Bonnie and Reiger had been surprised when Barkin had announced the results for Queen. Nobody had been surprised when Ron had been elected the Homecoming King but the entire student body had gasped when Barkin called out Bonnie's name for Queen.

Kim had decided to not dig into the matter. After all, she knew how rough Bonnie's home life, with her two older sisters, could be. The redhead suspected that Connie and Lonnie had driven their younger sister to take desperate measures too win something. Kim had reasoned that even though Bonnie had the Queen's tiara, she, Kim Possible, had the King.

However, Bonnie hadn't been content to let things stand at that point. On Monday, she started to act like she and Ron were a couple. While Kim hadn't minded Bonnie and Ron posing arm in arm for the pictures, when Bonnie started hanging on Ron's arm at every opportunity, Kim had gotten tweaked. About the only thing that had saved Bonnie from a Kimnuclear explosion was the fact that this all took place in public, where such an explosion would have resulted in severe consequences. The only thing that saved Ron from the same fate was that he was clearly uncomfortable with the entire sitch.

Finally, earlier today, Bonnie decided to stoop even lower than her election rigging last Friday. While posing for another picture, she had grabbed Ron and planted a massive kiss, full on his lips. At that point, Kim stepped up, dragged the brunette into the nearest, empty classroom, and confronted her about it. Bonnie quickly collapsed into hysterics.

It took awhile for the story to come out, but it seemed that Brick had broken up with her shortly after he arrived at college. It hadn't bothered her much at the time, since she had started dating Hirotaka. However, after the Japanese boy had broken things off, her sisters found out and started making her life miserable. Bombarded by their cutting comments about her social status, compared to theirs, she had finally snapped and made an overt, doomed to failure, move on Ron. Of course, about the time Kim got the full story out of Bonnie, a call had come in that Senior Senior Junior had kidnapped a cutting-edge computer programmer.

Ron had felt sorry for Bonnie and even Kim had to agree that sending her home, to her sisters, while she was in her current state was a bad idea, so they let her accompany them and Wade on the trip to Venice. By the time all was said and done, Team Possible learned that SSJ had hired, rather than kidnapped, the programmer and Bonnie and SSJ had clearly hooked up. Junior offered to give his new girlfriend a ride home and graciously extended the invitation to include Team Possible. Thus, Kim was now sitting in almost sinful luxury, flying home at just under the speed of sound, trying to ignore the fact that not fifteen feet behind her, SSJ and Bonnie had gone beyond tonsil-hockey to a full make-out session.

When their affection had started to get physical, Kim had barely managed to stop herself from demanding that the two of them get a room. She had realized, in the nick of time, that the private jet's passenger section was, technically, Junior's room and that he was doing her, Ron, and Wade a favor by letting them ride along. Next, Kim had been tempted to grab Ron and show the new couple a proper make-out but she realized that that would be juvenile. Not only that but Wade was uncomfortable enough with Bonnie and SSJ carrying on. The young genius was still uneasy whenever she and Ron kissed in front of him, so she could just about imagine what the poor boy would go through if he was forced to endure two couples trying to out-hormone each other in a confined space. Ron's offer to play video games against him wasn't just an excuse to play the latest Zombie Mayhem installment, it was diverting Wade's attention from the increasingly noisy dating activity taking place behind them. Unfortunately for Kim, her BFBF's gallantry towards the boy had left her with nothing to divert **her** attention.

Kim had brought along her school assignments but there were certain things that kept her from concentrating on her studies. She could do Trigonometry homework while on a noisy, military aircraft. She could study History while on a small boat in 30-foot seas. She could study English Literature while sitting in the back of a truck, doing 70 MPH on a bumpy road. She could **not** study Physics while her rival and **her** new beau were exploring exothermic reactions not six strides away.

She gave up on her book and sat back, unable to help but listen to the, occasionally interrupted, conversation wafting up from the rear of the compartment. After a few minutes, she realized that Bonnie had a real future as a portfolio manager if she choose to pursue such a career. Kim frowned at how blatantly attracted Bonnie seemed to be to Junior's money.

And how much Junior expected her to be.

Kim was the first to admit that she probably had a skewed view of wealth. She was the daughter of a brain surgeon and a rocket scientist, who were both compensated in proportion to their skills and abilities. As a result, Kim had never really had to worry about material needs. She also understood that most of her friends and other acquaintances, including Bonnie, came from fairly well off families. Because of this, Bonnie's infatuation with Junior's wealth disgusted her. After all, the Rockwallers were fairly well off, themselves. How else could they afford to have Connie and Lonnie living at home, unemployed?

While Kim didn't have her future completely planned out, she had never doubted that she would go to college, use the resulting degree to find a good job, and provide for herself. She flat out couldn't understand why anyone would go to college looking for the so-called MRS degree, or would go into a relationship based on the boy's wealth. While she knew that Ron had a fairly impressive trust fund (his father had taken over management of his Bueno Nacho income after the 'First Check Fiasco') she deliberately did not look into the amount. She was in love with **Ron**, not the potential life style he could provide.

Kim had also never had many problems with gender stereotypes. She was a heroine and the people who called her for help counted on her to do the job. Sure, she had run into the occasional sitch where someone was more interested in having a girl with her looks and/or fame, rather than her abilities, show up. Wade filtered out most of **those** calls and the word had gotten out very quickly about her short temper and long memory regarding such requests. On the very, very rare occasions that a so-called client had obtained her services, only to prove more interested in her as a girl than a heroine, she had applied her martial arts abilities. Kim knew that she was a pretty girl but she had always considered her looks to be secondary to her skills and intelligence. She had always kept her flirting activities separate from her academics and her hero work. The fact that Bonnie was so blatantly manipulating Junior, with her looks, made her skin crawl. While both she and her rival were still teenagers, the current sitch made her wonder if Bonnie was going to base her future on her ability to use her looks to manipulate males.

This line of thought started her thinking about her own future. While she freely admitted that she and Ron were too young to commit to a lifetime together, they weren't too young to plan, informally, on one. The biggest unknown in their lives was if they could continue the hero thing after starting college. They both understood that college academics were going to be much more demanding than high school academics. Beyond that, they understood that the hero's life might not be compatible with careers. She couldn't picture either of her parents being able to leave work, on a moment's notice, regularly. She had harshed on Team Impossible when she found out that they charged for their services but she was beginning to understand why they did so, it was their livelihood.

Kim Possible spent the rest of the flight contemplating if her heroine career would be over once adult responsibilities set in.

* * *

"It iz complete," Professor Dementor exalted to his hosts. "Der pan-dimensional vortex inducer vill be able to lock on to der origins of Ztoppable's power."

Shego and Monty looked at the size of the device and were less than enthusiastic. With a heavy sigh, Shego decided that it was time to become, once again, the tactical expert.

"Okay," she addressed the two men with her. "Now we have to figure out how to make use of this thing. How long will it take you to lock onto Ronnie's power, and what do you need?"

"It vill take only a couple of der minutes," Dementor explained. "Vonce I've got Ztoppable in range and using der power."

"What's the range?" Shego asked.

"Roughly five-hundred meters," the mad scientist informed her.

"Weight of the unit, and power requirements?" Shego was all business.

"Der unit weighs about one thousand kilograms, and draws fifteen kilowatts of electrical power."

"I thought your previous machines required much more power," Monty observed.

"Dat vas because I vas trying to move matter between dimensions," Dementor explained. "It takes much less energy to open ze portal for der power."

"I'll take your word for it," Shego shrugged. "I'm more worried about how we're going to use this thing. It weighs a little over a ton, so even I can't just carry it around. It also draws enough power that we can't just plug it into the nearest outlet."

"Der device looks a little like der old-fasioned television camera," Dementor suggested. "Perhaps ve could poze as der reporters and catch him vile he's playing der vootball game."

"Not a bad idea," Fisk commented, nodding and rubbing his chin. "But that would entail a large number of witnesses. I don't think that we could eliminate them all and I want to keep the existence of the Mystical Monkey Power, and my possession of it, confidential information."

"We could load it into a service truck or van," Shego suggested. "Along with a generator. If we park outside Ronnie's house, we could zap him on his way to school."

"Let's work that up as a backup plan," Fisk declared. "It doesn't seem...sporting to not give him at least a little warning."

"If you want to let him know that something's up, we could lure him to a predetermined location," Shego advised. "We can have the gizmo and a power source pre-positioned."

"Excellent, my dear!" Fisk approved with a smile. "If we request Team Possible, Ronald will show up prepared for a crises. As such, he will be accessing the Mystical Monkey Power even as he arrives."

"And Kimmie will be with him," Shego concluded. "That'll give me my chance to get even."

"And I get even wit zer boy," Dementor added.

"What did he ever do to you?" Fisk asked.

"He ztole mein bratvurst on zeveral occasions!"

"Did you have sauerkraut to go with it?" Shego inquired.

"Ja, he took zat as vell!"

"That's a pretty good reason to want revenge," Shego conceded.

"I think we're getting off the topic here," Monty interrupted. " I believe it is time to call in our feathered cohort."

"I agree," Shego smiled at Fisk's last remark. "It's time to finalize our plans."

* * *

He fled the hated buildings and the hated humans. Something terrible had happened to him there, something that he couldn't understand. His first reaction was to simply flee, to put as much distance as he could between himself and that hated place. After several minutes, with the buildings out of sight and scent, he slowed down and used more caution. There could be predators about but hopefully, there could be others of his kind.

He spent his time traveling, sniffing at the air, feeding upon what fruit he could find and emitting the occasional shriek, listening for an answer. Finally, he stumbled into a band of his fellow spider monkeys. As a large, alpha-male, he approached openly, confident that they would accept him, that he would quickly rise to the leadership position in the band.

Mistake!

Approached by a large, swaggering monkey, the band grouped together and attacked. Although large and strong, he was quickly overwhelmed and driven off. The band pursued him, harassing him until he left their territory. Unfortunately, his problems were only beginning. The neighboring band, into whose territory the first band pursued him, had been alerted by the commotion and were waiting to defend their territory. As a result, he was quickly forced to chose another direction and once again flee for his life.

The monkey quickly lost track of how many bands wound up chasing him. He could only flee, over and over again, as the day wore on. Finally, exhausted to the point he could no longer flee, he stumbled into the midst of another band, with his current pursuers right on his tail. Here, he received a shock.

All of the adults in this band carried sticks. While it wasn't unusual for a spider monkey to climb above a ground-bound tormentor, break off sticks and drop them, these monkeys were using the sticks to fight the other band. As he sat, panting, this new band of monkeys quickly routed the invaders. As his pursuers fled off into the jungle, this band's leader approached him. Too tired to flee, the monkey prepared for a severe beating.

Instead of attacking, the leader simply sniffed him, paying particular attention to a small wound on his shoulder. The monkey was a little surprised. A female led the band, which was unusual. The leader made a few gestures and the rest of the band gathered up some fruit, which they presented to their visitor. After he had eaten, the leader led him to a clear pond, from which he and the band drank. He rested more while the band gathered more fruit. Soon, the band had several crude, vine nets full of food. Four monkeys carried these nets while the rest of the band formed up around them. The leader gestured for him to follow them and the band started to travel through the jungle.

The monkey was confused, not understanding why the band was carrying the food rather than eating it. He had no human concept of time, so he didn't realize that they traveled for about an hour. At the end of that time, the band reached their goal and he stopped and stared at the strange thing in front of him. He had no human language, so he didn't know that he was looking at crude, vine-lashed shelter, constructed in the treetops. He noted that a few additional adult monkeys and a swarm of young emerged from structure. The four monkeys carrying the nets shared their food with the rest of the band.

After the 'babysitter' monkeys had eaten, the leader made a few gestures and the band filed into the structure. At first the monkey didn't want to go inside, he had bad experiences with structures, but two of the band slipped up behind him and firmly herded him inside. The two monkeys who had herded him inside forced him to the front of the structure, where the leader sat. They forced him to sit in front of her. He watched, confused, as she seemed to sleep, even though her eyes were open. He gained a sense of her calling out, even though she didn't make a sound.

* * *

"I'm glad Bonnie and Junior finally settled down," Kim grumbled to her BFBF, as the two of them walked to her house. They had arrived back in Middleton just in time for cheerleading and football practice.

"Yeah," Ron agreed. "All that kissing, groping and financial comments made for quite the distraction."

"That was sweet of you to keep Wade's mind on something else," she told him.

"As you would say," he answered. "No big. After all, once they settled down, he helped me with my chemistry and algebra homework."

"So how are you looking for schoolwork?" She asked.

"About a half page of business homework," Ron replied. "And I should put in a half-hour or so reading for my English Literature class."

"Mind hanging at my place while you do it?" She knew that Ron's parents had taken Hanna and were visiting friends.

"Sounds good to me."

The two teens went to the Possibles' home, where dinner was waiting. After the meal, and a short time kidding around with the tweebs, Kim and Ron broke out their homework and started to work. Eventually, Kim looked up from her Physics book, only to see Ron with a very distant look in his eyes.

"Ron?" She asked, "did Amy…?"

"Cover for me, KP," he requested. "I have to pick this up."

* * *

The monkey became suddenly aware that the silent call he somehow sensed had been answered. Somehow, the leader of the band was communicating with something far away. Whatever it was, it was like the most alpha of alpha monkeys. He sat, fearfully, as that other presence turned its attention upon him.

The touch of that mind on his wasn't dominating, like he had expected. Instead, it was kind and sympathetic. He knew that he had to obey that will, but the will refused to force obedience. It guided him through his own memories, gently compelling him to recall what had happened to him at those buildings. The awareness was very interested in the female that had done the bad things to him and the location of the buildings where she had done them. After several minutes of this strange communication, the awareness was satisfied. He sat in wonder as the other mind returned to the band's leader. After a few more minutes, the awareness was gone.

* * *

Ron's eyes suddenly returned to the here and now. Instead of the angry, fearful expression he had displayed after previous episodes, he now looked hopeful and determined.

"I've got a lead on Amy," was his simple statement.

* * *

"Okay, you say that you've got information on Amy's location, but you can't reveal your source?" Wade asked, yet again.

"Right Wade," Kim confirmed. "We need a ride to Belize."

"You realize that I can't call up a Global Justice or military ride unless I can reference the source?"

"I understand Wade," Kim assured him. "We'll just have to count on a favor."

"I can do that," Wade assured her. "But international favor rides can take time to put together. Beyond that, when will you be ready to come back? For that matter, when are you going to be ready to go?"

"Why don't we arrange for the ride to pick us up after the game this Friday?" Kim suggested to Ron. "That way we'll have the weekend to track down Amy. If we can't find her, we can come back Sunday afternoon. If we do find her, we can call in GJ."

"It makes sense to me," Ron agreed. "Wade, try to arrange for us to land at the same airport you sent the monkey to this past spring."

'That was Belmopan," Wade replied. "But why?"

"Confidential information," Ron informed him. "Besides, I don't think you'd believe me if I told you."

She was content, yet excited. She knew the route back to where the flying machine had brought her. She prepared her band. They would have to cross several bands' territories to get to that place, so there would be a great deal of fighting, but it would be worth it. The master of all monkeys would be here in a few days, too right an injustice against all simian kind.

* * *

_A/N:_

_Thanks again for your patience, and for reading the story. My biggest thanks go to Joe Stoppinghem, for his invaluable Beta services and suggestions. _

_Till next update, best wishes._

_daccu65_


	24. Rumble in the Jungle

Chapter 24: Rumble in the Jungle

The final gun sounded at the Eastside High stadium, announcing another Middleton victory. Kim led the squad in one last routine as the Eastside band played a few tunes and the players met on the field, exchanging handshakes and small talk. After the band finished, Kim and the rest of the Middleton cheerleaders met their Eastside counterparts for some polite conversation, before heading for the dressing room. Behind her, she heard Barkin bellowing for his team to hit the showers.

Ron shook hands and shared some small talk with as many of his opponents as he could. He specifically looked up the strong safety, since the two of them had been cracking helmets all game long. It had been another two hundred plus yard game for him. All in all, he was tired, sore, and satisfied. While talking with the safety, he heard Barkin shouting for the team to hit the showers. He joined up with Oscar on the way.

"How you holding up?" He asked his friend. Oscar had put in his usual performance, blocking boys bigger than him and taking the occasional, surprise hand off.

"I'll be sore tomorrow," Oscar reported. "But I'll be fine. Bruises heal and it gives me a good excuse to ask Cindy for a back rub."

Ron had to smile since Kim had insisted on providing the same service for him. He was actually looking forward to returning the favor after the squad competed at regionals. Still, he couldn't waste too much time since Wade was scheduled to place his 'surprise' call in about twenty minutes. Ron allowed himself a short discussion with one of Eastside's student reporters, in which he credited his line and fullback for most of his yards, before trotting into the locker room.

Kim finished dressing, unable to help overhearing Bonnie bragging up her new boyfriend. At least one good thing had come out of the Bonnie-Junior sitch; the brunette had stopped harshing on Cindy and Oscar, preferring to talk about her new beau.

"Kim," Crystal whispered to the redhead in a low voice. "Is this Junior guy really all that great?" Crystal and Liz listened to Kim, while the rest of the squad was paying various levels of attention to Bonnie.

"He's eye-candy, there's no doubt," Kim told them. "And if you're into the 'rich guy' thing, you won't find many richer."

"But…"Liz prompted.

"But what?" Kim asked.

"There must be something wrong with him," Liz pointed out. "Wasn't he all crushing on you sophomore year? If he's that great, you'd have gotten together with him."

"He's a baby," Kim informed her. "He's self-centered and incredibly naïve. He's also arrogant. He's so convinced that he's going to be an incredible pop sensation that you can't tell him that he has no talent."

"So why is Bonnie going on about him?" Liz wondered.

"Because he's hot, rich, dumb and easily manipulated," Crystal answered. "Just what she's looking for in a guy."

The three cheerleaders shared a discrete giggle, interrupted by the Kimunicator.

"Go, Wade," Kim answered.

"We've got hit on the site," he reported, following their prearranged script. "Someone has a pretty solid DNAmy sighting."

"We're on it," Kim replied. "When can you arrange for a ride?"

"It'll be at your location in ten."

"You rock, Wade," Kim thanked him, then looked at Liz and Crystal. "Sorry ladies, gotta go."

In the visitor's locker room, Ron fielded a similar call. Ten minutes later, a delivery truck picked them up and carried them to the local airfield. They climbed into a private plane for a ride to the general aviation area at Denver International Airport. From there, it was onto a commercial aircraft. Wade had delivered their mission gear to DIA, so by midnight the teens were napping on an airliner, heading for Belize.

* * *

"So how do we lure Team Possible to where we want them to be?" Aviarius demanded. "If we demand that Team Possible shows up somewhere, you know that Global Justice and maybe the FBI and NSA are going to send backup. If we just go out and commit some crime, we might wind up dealing with cops or one of the other Global Justice teams."

"Good point, birdbrain," Shego complimented him, sort of. "Just what will bring Team Possible, and only Team Possible, to a given point?"

"Ve haff four vanted criminals right here," Dementor pointed out. "Vile ve are keeping Shego's ztatus zecret at zis time, if vone of us udder tree vould appear zomeplace, Team Possible vould probably zhow up and investigate."

"Not a bad idea, half-pint," Shego conceded.

"I would think that I should be the one to make an appearance," Monty pointed out. "Team Go has extensive experience dealing with Aviarius, so they may be dispatched if he shows up. Dementor is wanted in Europe, so the US government might feel compelled to send the US Marshals if he were to be spotted. That leaves me."

"You're getting better as well," Shego remarked.

"I say we pick some 'spot on the map' small town and let Monty get spotted," Avairius suggested. "One's as good as another, so lets just throw darts at a map."

"Nein," Dementor interrupted, before Shego could speak. "Ve vant to keep avay from der major cities. If ve get too close to der city, ve might vind up wit police svat teams, or zome udder elite force."

"And we want to look at escape routes," Shego added. She looked hard at her feathered, ally of convenience, "One thing you never figured out, back in the day, was to keep an escape route handy. That's why we were able to catch you so often. Now, we want a small town, at least fifty miles from any major city. We also want something on a major road, so we can blend with traffic. It won't do us much good if just pulling into the town turns into the big event of the season."

Monty produced some road maps, and the three villains started picking their ambush spot.

* * *

Favor rides, crossing international borders, weren't exactly fast and efficient, so dawn was tinting the eastern sky as Team Possible's last ride set down on an airstrip just north of the City of Belmopan. The two teens threw their baggage in the back of the pickup that Wade had arranged and Kim took the wheel. They drove a little west, then turned off the road. Ron climbed into the pickup bed, sat cross-legged and focused on the Mystical Monkey Power.

* * *

She had spent the day leading her band, and their guest, through the jungle. They had had several hard fights, but they had kept the violence to a minimum. Most clashes between monkey bands occurred when one band tried to take another's territory. She had kept her band moving through the day. Mostly, they had managed to cross the other monkeys' territory without encountering the tenants. On the few occasions where they had to fight, they had quickly proven victorious. While she hadn't managed to train her band to the level that Fisk had trained her and her former companions, she had her group much more capable and organized than the wild monkeys around them. With the sun setting, she had set the watches for the night and rested her band. With the new day, a call came from close by. She led her band a short distance, looked from the trees to a human road and a parked pickup truck. HE sat in the back.

* * *

Kim saw several monkeys appear in the nearby trees, emerging from the jungle. They carried scaled-down Bos, in proportion to their size. All of the monkeys, save one, remained in the trees. The exception sprang to the ground and approached the vehicle as Ron roused himself and jumped down from the bed.

As Ron and the monkey approached each other, the monkey acted submissive, crouching low and refusing to look Ron in the face. Ron dropped to one knee and placed a gentle, comforting hand on the monkey's shoulder. It looked up at him and their eyes locked for a few seconds. The monkey relaxed and directed Ron's gaze to another monkey, still in a tree. This monkey quickly hopped to the ground and approached the duo, also acting submissive. This was the only monkey, Kim noted, that did not carry a Bo.

Ron treated this monkey much the same way he had treated the first; with a calm, gentle hand on its shoulder. This monkey also calmed down quickly and met Ron's gaze for longer that the first monkey had. When their eyes broke contact, Ron waved for Kim to join them.

"I think that Amy injected him with a tracking chip," Ron informed her. "He has a very slight wound to this shoulder and he remembers being poked with a needle just before he was released."

"On it," Kim assured him, she pulled out her Kimmunicator and called Wade.

Wade used the device to run a broad-spectrum frequency scan, then quickly isolated the chip's transmitting frequency.

"I'll try to find out who's tracking the chip," Wade assured them. "But it may take a couple of hours and there's no guarantee that Amy's still tracking him."

"It's something to work with," Kim assured him.

"And we have some other leads to pursue, as well," Ron added. With that, Wade signed off.

"Don't freak, KP," Ron warned Kim. "The rest of the band is going to be coming down. They'll be riding in the back of the pickup, so I want to set up the tarp on the pickup's bed. The monkeys will sniff us, so that they can recognize us."

"What other leads do you have to work with?" Kim asked, quelling a little bit of panic when the monkeys surrounded the teens.

"Monkeys don't have the best sense of time, direction and distance," Ron told her, also suppressing panic. "But my friend here," Ron patted the first monkey. "Led her band northeast to reach here. This other fellow," here he patted the second monkey. "Traveled mainly west to get to her band. We'll grab a map and figure out where to start searching, based on this description."

By this time, the monkeys had finished sniffing the teens, so Ron and Kim unfolded a tarp and extended it over a frame in the pickups bed. The monkeys helped. Soon, the monkeys piled into the back of the pickup except for the first two, who joined the teens in the cab. There was a quick, four-way consultation over a map, which was awkward since only Ron could communicate with everyone present, then Kim started the pickup and started them towards their agreed-upon point.

"So, you have influence over monkeys," she mentioned, once they were under way. "Do they recognize me as your friend, partner, or what?"

"They don't really have a concept of friend and partner," Ron answered, his cheeks becoming slightly pink and refusing to look at her. "They understand being members of the same band."

"So they consider me part of your band?" She didn't understand why he was embarrassed.

"Not really," he loosened his collar. "They don't consider just two of us to be a band."

"So what do they think I am?" She demanded. "And why are you all fidgety?"

"I sort of had to work within their understanding," Ron informed her. "So I sort of introduced you to them as my mate."

* * *

DNAmy woke up at dawn. Her employer had returned to the states the previous day, leaving her to oversee deactivating the facility. She expected to be finished sometime tomorrow. The specialty equipment had already been shipped out, starting a long, circuitous journey to her Wyoming ranch. Today, workers would load the remainder of the standard equipment and send it to her employer's South American warehouse. Tomorrow, she would sedate her creations for shipment to her ranch. There should be plenty of time for her to construct holding facilities in the barn.

"_There should be plenty of time if Monty doesn't distract me too much_," she smiled at the thought.

She idly wondered what had happened to the monkeys she had released, but decided to not worry about it any more. She had recorded the chips' transmitting frequency and she could track them via satellite, later, if she became curious. For now, she took pride in performing her job and breaking more genetics barriers.

The local workers showed up, breaking her reverie. She put her daydreams on hold and directed their efforts.

* * *

Belize was not a large country, so it didn't take Kim long to drive to their starting point. During the drive, she considered how Ron had explained their relationship to the monkeys.

Mates.

Kim had been a little embarrassed at first despite conceding the point that monkeys might not understand the best friend/ boyfriend, girlfriend/partner concept. Then she realized that the term 'mate' was probably the most accurate description available. Sure, she and Ron weren't _mating_, at least not yet, but the word implied something closer than boyfriend/girlfriend. The term could mean close friends, the one with whom you shared your triumphs, joys, tragedies and sorrows. The one who was always there for you, and for who you would always be there. Despite the fact that they hadn't exchanged rings and vows, they had committed themselves to each other and she was comfortable with that commitment.

Mates.

She wouldn't use the term out loud, since she didn't want to give her father a coronary, but that was how she would think of Ron from now on. They were mates.

"Okay, KP, here we are," Ron commented as Kim pulled the pickup over. "This is as close as we can get on the road. We'll go on foot from here." He pulled a couple of umbrellas from the back or the pickup and handed one to Kim. "Here, KP, you might need this."

"You think it's going to rain?" Kim couldn't see any clouds in the sky.

"No, were probably going to be passing through several monkey bands' territory," Ron explained.

"Not making the connection."

"Okay, when monkeys get disturbed by grounders, like us, they like to get up above us and drop…liquids and semi-solids."

"What kind of liquids and….oh."

"Yeah, take the umbrella."

* * *

"I don't understand," Wade admitted. "Why don't you just tell me what you know."

"We got it confidentially," Kim answered her technical support. "Look, some…one told Ron that he had been held, and experimented upon, by DNAmy. He escaped and fled, but he doesn't have the best memory of running through the jungle."

"Okay, that makes sense," Wade agreed. "But if DNAmy was experimenting on him, that constitutes a human right's violation. Just his statement will bring the local authorities and Interpol into play. Why don't you let me report this?"

"Please Wade, just let that drop," Kim pleaded.

"Okay, so you want me to track you guys, and use satellite photographs to let you know about any isolated buildings in your area?"

"Please and thank you, Wade."

"This wouldn't have something to do with that chipped monkey, would it?"

"Please, Wade, don't look into the matter," Kim requested. "You're too smart by half, and we don't want you to figure out the secrets we're trying to keep. We trust you, but we promised to tell nobody, so…"

"So you won't even tell those you trust the most," Wade finished. "Thanks for explaining it, let me know when you need a scan."

"You rock Wade, Kim out."

Kim placed her Kimmunicator back in its holster and contemplated her BFBF. He was currently talking to another band of monkeys, backed up by the original band and with the chipped monkey and Fisk's former ninja at his side. So far, they had encountered six bands of monkeys (five bands of spider monkeys and one band of howler monkeys) and Ron had managed to avoid violence. Kim sighed, it was hot, humid and the terrain wasn't exactly made for easy travel. However, Ron insisted that they were getting closer.

Ron finished communicating with the latest band. As with the rest of the monkeys they had encountered, he had concentrated on avoiding violence rather than exerting his will. This band of monkeys remembered encountering the chipped monkey and had agreed to lead them to where they had met up with him. As was his habit, he assured the band of monkeys that he did not intend to take food from their territory. He only wanted to pass through. So far, it had been enough.

He waved to Kim, who came forward with the rest of the band. Soon, they were on the move again, traveling through the branches as much as they walked on the ground. The band, whose territory they were crossing, followed them at a respectful distance. Once Ron's group passed out of their territory, they returned to their lives.

DNAmy watched as the laborers loaded up the last of the laboratory equipment. What was left would remain with the building when it was sold. She checked her watch. The next group of laborers was due to show up in two hours, with cages to transport her latest creations. This would be tricky, since she had created them to be powerful burrowing creatures. She hoped that the sedatives she had would keep them calm for their trip. Still, she was excited. She would spend this night in a Mexican hotel, but she would spend tomorrow night in her Wyoming ranch, with Monty.

"Go Wade," Kim answered the call while Ron spoke to still another band of monkeys.

"I think you're on to something," the young genius admitted. "There's an isolated building ahead of you, about seven degrees off of your current course."

"Who owns it?" Kim asked.

"That's the kicker," Wade informed her. "It doesn't exist! I've tried to find it on registries and tax assessments, but nothing. The Belizian Internal Revenue Service will be interested in this, if nobody else."

"Thanks Wade, we'll see what our guide thinks."

"Be careful Kim."

"As always," Kim put away the Kimmunicator and walked up to Ron, who was finished with his negotiations anyway. She quickly filled him in on what Wade had told her. Again, Ron and his band of Monkeys crossed another band's territory. This time, the 'host' band didn't disperse when Ron left their territory. Unknown to the blonde boy, or any of those with him, this band of monkeys followed the Ultimate Monkey Master.

"So that's it?" Kim asked. The two teens, one rodent, and roughly dozen monkeys remained hidden in the forest. The building in question sat in the middle of a clearing, a couple of hundred yards from the nearest tree. Ron had insisted on circling around the structure until they were downwind, allowing the chipped monkey to smell it. He had quickly confirmed that this building was the site of his torture.

"Definitely," Ron confirmed. "Now, how do we proceed?"

"The building doesn't exist, so Wade can't track down any plans," Kim informed Ron. "I'd say our best bet is to get Rufus into the ventilation system, to do some scouting before we go in."

"Yeah, but look up," Ron countered. Kim looked into the sky, where several small hawks were gliding. "Those hawks would love a rodent snack."

The female monkey understood most of the conversation. Her time with Fisk, combined with the presence of the Ultimate Monkey Master, allowed her to understand the conflict. She also knew the solution; anyone inside the building would be alarmed if the two humans emerged from the forest, but not if a monkey appeared. With a quick wink at Rufus, she grabbed the little rodent and scampered across the open ground. After a moment, the chipped monkey followed her, understanding that he would have a chance to injure those who had injured him. The hawks were large enough to take a rodent, but not large enough to take a monkey, so they ignored the simians.

It only took the monkeys a few seconds to cross the open ground and climb the side of the building. Once one the roof, Rufus indicated the air intake he wanted. Since the ductwork was fairly large, the monkeys accompanied Rufus into the HVAC system.

* * *

DNAmy looked up from her desk just in time to see two monkeys climb across her window. Curious, she walked to the window, opened it and stuck her head out, looking up just in time to see one of them scramble onto the roof. She pulled her head back into her office and closed the window again. She was no expert on simian behavior, but she considered it odd that monkeys would want to approach the building. Perhaps some lingering monkey smell was still emerging from the ventilation system. Maybe the monkeys she saw thought that more monkeys were inside the building. She shrugged. She really didn't care, she was finished with the building anyway. At least the creatures had broken her out of her daydreams. She left her office and took the stairs to the ground level. She might as well get her latest creations sedated ahead of time. It was really too bad that the monkeys waited until now to become curious about the building. If they had shown up a couple of months earlier, she could have saved some money on test subjects.

* * *

"That's Amy!" Kim declared, putting her binoculars down when the woman closed the window. She quickly keyed her Kimmunicator. "Wade, I've just personally spotted Amy, what can you do now?"

"I'm contacting Interpol and Global Justice," the youngster told her. "Your witness statement, coupled with the mysterious nature of the building, will be enough to generate a warrant." He paused, "Uh-oh."

"What Uh-oh?" Ron asked. "I don't like Uh-ohs!"

"I show several trucks approaching the building, maybe a half-hour out. The road that they're on leads only to this building, so they have to be heading your way."

"Reinforcements?" Kim asked.

"Uh-oh," Ron chimed in.

"Impossible to say," Wade replied. "Infrared scans show only two people per truck, so I'm guessing they're either bringing something or getting ready to remove something." He paused again. "Wait a minute, how could I have been so stupid?" The teens heard a burst of rapid keyboard tapping. "Okay," he said. "I'm doing a infrared scan of the building. You have two small, very mobile creatures inside, as well as DNAmy. I'm picking up several quadruped, mammalian life forms, but no other humans."

"So Monty isn't in there," Ron requested.

"Exactly."

"Okay, what now?" The blonde boy asked.

"We've got to take Amy down before those trucks get here," Kim declared. "We go in now, hard, and hope to link up with Rufus once we get inside."

"I've got your back, KP," Ron assured her, while trying to convince the remaining monkeys to stay out of the way.

* * *

DNAmy passed by the main entrance on her way to the holding pens. She idly glanced out as she passed by, then her eyes snapped open and she stepped back to the door for a better look. Sure enough, she recognized Kim Possible and that blonde boy charging across the open field. They would be here in moments. DNAmy didn't waste any more time. She made sure the door was locked then scampered for the holding pens. Her creations weren't made for fighting, but they were large, strong, and the digging claws made for efficient weapons. Team Possible would have their hands full when they got inside.

* * *

Kim and Ron reached the door, finding it locked. Kim pulled out her laser lipstick but before she could even turn it on, the monkeys dropped down from an air diffuser. The female, carrying Rufus in one paw, opened the door from the inside. Kim was glad that the building was constructed with modern fire codes in mind.

"That way," Rufus squeaked, pointing down a corridor. Team Possible sprinted down the hall, hoping to catch Amy before she was prepared for the confrontation. The two teens, one rodent, and two monkeys sprinted through a couple of stout doors and found out that they were too late.

Amy stood at the far end of a room filled with holding pens. She pulled a lever, opening all of the pens. Kim and Ron recognized the creatures as those that had rescued Monkey Fist but seeing them in the flesh was shocking. The creatures lumbered out of their pens and closed on the teens.

"I don't know why you've come here," Amy shrieked at the teens. "But my creations will make you wish you had just left me alone."

"Where's Fisk?" Ron demanded of her, barely dodging a swipe from a badgealope's claws.

"None of your business," Amy answered.

"Ron, we have to get outside," Kim told her BFBF, as she executed a back flip, avoiding a leaping wolfaroo rat. "They're too big to fight in here! We need room to move!"

"Gotcha, KP," Ron agreed. He backhanded a Beararie Dog on the nose, using the hard metal of his wrist grapple. The creature was only stunned for a moment, but it was enough time for Ron to flee back the way he had come. Unseen by the teens, or DNAmy, the two monkeys hid above the drop-in ceiling, allowing the pursuit to pass by.

Team Possible, pursued by Amy's six creations, burst out of the front door and faced another shock. The female's band was arrayed in the open field, ready for battle with their miniature Bos. The monkeys paired off against their opponents; as soon as one of the creatures turned on one of the monkeys, the other monkey would strike at its back.

"KP, we have to get to the trees!" Ron yelled at his partner.

"Why?" Kim asked, not wanting to give up the maneuvering room she had in the open.

"Trust me!"

Faced with this statement, Kim had no choice. She dodged a beararie dog's fangs and sprinted for the trees with Ron. As soon as the teens started their retreat, the female's band followed suit. Frustrated and enraged, Amy's creatures pursued them into the trees, where the other monkey band was waiting.

The second band of monkeys didn't descend to do battle. Instead, they subjected the creatures to a fusillade of sticks, fruit, and less pleasant substances. The creatures soon separated, roaring at the tormentors out of their reach. With their pursuers distracted, Kim and Ron managed to make some plans.

Ron, Kim, and the female's band picked out one creature at a time and concentrated upon it. Using Ron's wrist grapple, Kim's hair dryer grapple, and masses of vines collected by the second band of monkeys, Team Possible was able to entangle and immobilize each of the creatures, in turn. Kim wouldn't allow a moment's rest.

"We've got to get back after Amy, we can't give her a chance to try something else," she panted.

"Right," Ron agreed, and the two teens ran back towards the building.

* * *

DNAmy had watched her creations pursue Team Possible out of the building. She watched, open mouthed, as trained monkeys backed up the teens. When she saw her creations pursue her tormentors into the forest, where additional monkeys lent their support to Team Possible, she knew that her creations would be defeated. They were strong and obedient but they were laboring creatures, not fighters. The geneticist ran to the aircraft hangar and prepped her hoverjet.

The two hiding monkeys, and one mole rat, followed Amy to the hangar. By the time they caught up to her, she was safely sealed in the pilot's compartment. The female monkey understood that the 'bad human' was going to escape. She looked at her simian companion and her eyes fell on the small wound on his shoulder. She also spotted a maintenance hatch on the aircraft. She set the mole rat on the ground, grabbed the male monkey, and leapt onto the aircraft.

* * *

Kim and Ron were halfway across the clearing when Rufus emerged from the building. Risking the hawks, the brave rodent scampered across the open ground to meet his human. Ron scooped him up and listened to his excited chittering.

"They did WHAT?" He demanded. Further communication was drowned out by a nearby aircraft engine.

The two teens looked up to see a hoverjet rise from the other side of the building. They had a momentary glimpse of Amy, in the pilot's compartment, before the craft rotated and blocked their view of that section. On the aft section, they saw the two monkeys crawling into an open hatch. The female monkey made a quick gesture to her companion's shoulder before closing the hatch behind them.

"What's she doing?" Ron demanded. "I TOLD her to keep safe! When they get to wherever they're going…well, Amy's done experiments on monkeys before!"

"They'll be okay," Kim assured him. "She's a trained ninja! They'll be safe until we find them."

"But how will we find them?" Ron demanded, as the aircraft sped off.

"That's it!" Kim exclaimed, in triumph, pulling out her Kimmunicator.

"What's it?" Ron demanded.

"Wade, are you still tracking that monkey's chip?" Kim demanded.

"Sure thing," Wade assured her. "What do you need?"

"Amy's escaped, but that monkey's with her," Kim explained. "If you track the chip, you'll lead us right to her!"

"And probably to Monkeyfist, as well" Wade concluded. "I'm patching you through to Global Justice, they'll want to know about this."

"You rock, Wade," Kim thanked him, then turned to her still fuming BFBF.

"I told them to keep safe," he growled. "What if she catches them? The things she will do to them…"

"Ron, they're accepting the risks, like us, for the greater good," Kim assured him. "Now they're counting on us to hold up our part of the bargain."

"Yeah, but when I get my hands on them….OOOOHhhh!" Ron was struggling with his temper.

"RON STOPPABLE!" Kim snarled at her boyfriend. "Get your head in the game. You can spank your monkey later." The redhead looked down to her Kimmunicator, seeing the unreadable face of...

"Dr. Director," Kim stammered. "I didn't mean…I mean we have a sitch with…I mean."

"I assume that your partner is dealing with simian discipline," Global Justice's head informed the teen. "If not, I would appreciate you disabling your video feed."

Blushing, Kim quickly filled the older woman in on the situation.

"Good work, Team Possible," Dr. Director congratulated the teens. "I'm dispatching a containment team, and transportation, immediately. The containment team should be there in roughly an hour but international transportation might take longer. By that time, we should have a better track on Amy's destination. Guard the creatures and prepare yourselves. Our other tactical teams are currently dispatched, so you're probably going to go into this one alone, at least initially."

"We're never alone when we're together," Kim commented, unconsciously leaning against Ron. "Who knows, Dr. Director? By tomorrow morning, we might have this whole sitch resolved."

* * *

_A/N:_

_This story seems to be growing on its own. Thanks for having the patience to stick with it. _

_As always, thank you for your reviews, private messages, and suggestions. Also as always, my biggest thanks to Joe Stoppinghem for his Beta Services._

_Until next update, best wishes;_

_daccu65_


	25. High Plains Showdown

Chapter 25: High Plains Showdown

"Okay Wade, what's your best guess?" Kim requested. She, Ron and Rufus were now sitting in Britina's private jet. The pop sensation had just finished a concert in Buenos Aires and was in route to New York. When she heard that Kim needed a ride, she had been more than happy to make a quick landing at Belmopan and pick up Team Possible. Once again, Wade had proven more efficient than Global Justice.

"Amy has a large head start on you," he explained. "But she didn't make full use of it. It looks like she's taken a deceptive route out across the Caribbean, and she's now coming back into America. Her current course will cut across the country from southeast to the northwest. She could even be heading for southwestern Canada or even Alaska. This is assuming that she doesn't change course."

"Suggestions?" Ron prompted.

"Britina is willing to drop you off at Houston," Wade suggested. "I can arrange to have another ride, with a full set of mission gear, meet you there. From there, set course to Middleton. It will put you at a central location. That way you can divert to wherever she goes." The boy paused for a moment, "is there any chance I can talk you into waiting for Global Justice backup?"

"I don't think so, Wade," Kim answered. "Amy isn't foolish. There's a good chance that she'll stop at some sort of cache, then break and run again. Not only that, but if she finds the monkeys…" Kim let the boy's imagination finish the statement.

"Got it, I'll keep tracking her," Wade assured his friends. "Wade out."

Kim, Ron and Rufus relaxed in the aircraft's passenger section. Despite the strenuous day they had already put in, they knew that they would be facing more villains before long. Tracking Amy meant dealing with Monkeyfist and now Dementor and a Shego-powered Avairius. Unknown to Kim, Ron looked long and hard at his wrist-grapple, wondering if this confrontation would be Monty's last.

* * *

DNAmy grew more exited as she neared her home. She wasn't a pilot, but her aircraft was equipped with an automatic pilot. She simply used the computer to define her course and the aircraft followed it automatically. She took the time to fly a deceptive course, then use her employer's private transponder to enter US airspace. Once over land, she shut down the transponder and activated the computer's ground hugging routine.

Now, she was getting close. One of the advantages of the ground hugging profile was that she could actually see the land zipping under the aircraft, she could actually see the progress she was achieving. Now, in the distance, she spotted her ranch. Her heart raced as she approached. There was nobody outside, so _he_ must be in the farmhouse. As the aircraft swept over the creek, she could see that he had done some serious work in the woods. It was so good to see that he had gotten out of his funk! The automatic pilot landed her in the deepest section of the valley, where observers would have the hardest time spotting the aircraft. Sure, she would have to walk a quarter mile to reach the house, but it would be worth it."

* * *

"Amy has landed!" Wade reported to Kim and Ron. "She's stopped in north-central Wyoming!"

"Divert our aircraft and notify Dr. Director," Kim instructed.

"On it now," Wade assured her. "I'm also trying to get some current, satellite imagery of the area. I should have this info in about a half hour, you'll be arriving on site in about two hours."

"You rock, Wade!"

* * *

"It appears that we must simply pick our time, my dear," Monkeyfist informed Shego. "We are fully prepared, we have selected our ambush site and Aviarius and Dementor have their devices functioning." The two had spent another day performing domestic chores, keeping the house and grounds in good shape. Now, in the early evening, they were relaxing in the house.

"I was thinking next weekend," Shego offered. "It's Stoppable's last home game, so he should put out some extra effort and maybe he'll be just a little tired after his exertions. Let him and little Miss Kimmie have their last little moment of triumph before we crush them!"

"Need I remind you that I do not wish to kill Ronald?" Fisk asked.

"Hey, I don't want to kill the princess, either," Shego retorted. "I want her to live with knowing that I beat her! But you have to admit, taking the sidekick's monkey stuff should be a pretty bitter pill for him."

"Indeed," Fisk mused. "Such a traumatic experience may make him more susceptible to becoming my apprentice!"

"I don't follow," Shego admitted.

"Consider this, my dear," Monty explained. "Mr. Stoppable has built his identity as Miss Possible's assistant. He utilizes the Mystical Monkey Power to assist her. A great deal of his self-identity is centered around being a teenaged hero. Now, when I take back the Mystical Monkey Power, he will suddenly find himself, once again, an ordinary teenager. His self-identity will be gone and he will need to find another identity. The opportunity to become my apprentice, to regain his skills, should seem very tempting…after a suitable period of sorrow and remorse."

"Brilliant, Monty," Shego almost purred. "That will destroy the princess!" At her lover's questioning look she continued, "from what I've been reading, it seems that the princess and her sidekick have finally noticed that one's a boy and the other's a girl. Now, they've been best friends for something like thirteen years. With that much buddy time behind them, once they try the hormone thing it's either going to fizzle out really quick or turn into something a little…more. Since they've put in half a year already, I'm guessing that both of 'em are thinking along the lines of the rest of their lives together. Ordinarily, that would be silly of seventeen year olds but, like I said, they have thirteen years of friendship to back it up."

"I'm still not understanding how Ronald becoming my apprentice will crush Miss Possible," Monty confessed.

"It's similar to Ronnie and the monkey stuff," Shego explained. "The princess finally realized that she had 'her guy' with her all along. First, Ronnie losses the monkey stuff right in front of her. That alone will be hard for her to take. Then, a couple of months later, the love of her life leaves her to pursue power and a life that she finds morally repugnant. She'll be asking herself, every day for the rest of her life, how she could have saved Ronnie."

"I must say that I'll take your word for the effects that Ronald's defeat and apprenticeship will have upon Miss Possible," Fisk assured her. "Although your insights upon her character have been uncannily accurate."

"I'm very good at what I do," Shego proudly announced, standing up and walking to where Fisk was seated.

"That you are, my dear," Fisk agreed, opening his arms so that Shego could seat herself upon his lap.

"Do we have anything…pressing to attend to this evening?" Shego asked breathlessly, between kisses.

"Nothing…of…the…professional…sort," Monty assured her, with the same vocal constraints.

The two villains let their inhibitions go. The kisses and caressing grew more heated. Monkeyfist shifted his weight, preparing to stand up and carry his lover to the bedroom when the front door flew open.

"Monty! I'm home….WHAT'S GOING ON HERE!?"

Both Shego and Fisk stared, wide eyed at DNAmy, standing open-mouthed in the doorway.

* * *

"I've got a satellite picture on screen now," Wade informed his friends.

"We've got it," Kim replied, as she and Ron studied the screen.

"Okay, Amy's aircraft has landed here," a point on the screen blinked red in response to the boy's report. "She walked to the house, here. At this time, there are three humans in the house and another in one of the outbuildings."

"Four people," Kim mused. "Amy, Fisk, Dementor and Aviarius."

"That would be my guess," Wade agreed.

"What about the monkeys?" Ron asked.

"They trailed Amy to the house and they appear to be hiding nearby."

"I hope they keep out of sight," Ron added.

"Whatever they do, we'll be there in about ninety minutes too help them," Kim reminded her BFBF.

* * *

"I rescued you! I took you in! I gave you a place when you had none! I gave you hope when you had none! I gave you my heart, and this is how you repay me?" Amy's voice had grown higher and louder, almost an incoherent shriek.

"Amy, please let me explain," Fisk had set Shego on her feet, and approached the short, dumpy geneticist.

"Oh! I can't wait to hear this," Shego muttered.

"I thought you loved me!" Amy wailed.

"Amy…I-I'll admit to a certain fondness for you b-but I c-can't say that I'm in love with…"

"Then why didn't you just tell me when I rescued you!?" She demanded.

"Well…I…I mean…I just…" Fisk stammered.

"You used me!" Amy roared. "You took my generosity and jumped into bed with this hussy!"

"Hussy?!" Shego suddenly perked up. "What do you mean, hussy?"

"You know," Amy now hissed at the green-tinted woman. "You just waited until I got out of the picture, then you moved in here to claim him."

"News flash, dumpling," Shego drawled. "The monkey boy here actually came out, found me and brought me here."

"Monty, is this true?" Amy demanded.

"Well…er, yes," Fisk admitted.

"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!" Amy ordered the two.

"Hold on there, sister," Shego stepped firmly in front of Fisk and confronted the geneticist. "Number one, you're not the first woman to lose her guy, secondly, nobody's going anywhere tonight. Now why don't we all sit down and talk this over before anybody does something stupid?"

"I said get out!"

"Or what," Shego couldn't keep the incredulous smile from her face. "You'll call the police? Another news flash, dumpling, we're all criminals here, it's not like you have anybody to run to for help."

"AAAaaargh!" Amy screamed. She spun on her heel and stormed outside.

"C'mon," Shego grabbed Fisk's collar and pulled him after her. "We've got to calm her down before she does something stupid."

"What can she do?" Monty was genuinely confused.

"She's hysterical right now," Shego rolled her eyes. "She's quite capable of calling in a quick, anonymous tip to the cops!"

Fisk and Shego burst out of the building, easily catching the distraught Amy.

"Amy, please let me explain," Fisk began, only to be interrupted when Shego spotted movement on the house's roof.

"What's that?" Shego demanded, pointing to the roof.

"Ah, two spider monkeys,' Fisk answered. "And one of them is one of mine! I lost her when Stoppable defeated me at the school function." Fisk motioned for the monkeys to join him, frowning when they did not.

"What are the monkeys doing here, anyway?" He demanded of Amy.

"They must have stowed away at my lab," she answered. "Now, about this so-called explanation…"

"Wait! You had monkeys at your laboratory?" He insisted. "Were you performing experiments on monkeys?"

"Of course, Monty, grow up! I'm a geneticist and simian DNA is close to human DNA! Now, about that explanation…"

"You betrayed me!" Fisk roared. "I trusted you and you performed your experiments on these noble creatures?"

"I betrayed YOU?" Amy was incredulous. "You were with…HER…in my own home!"

"Hold on, both of you," Shego physically stepped between the two. "Are those monkeys lab specimens of yours?"

"I don't know," Amy snapped, Shego was clearly not her favorite person. "Monkeys all look the same to me."

"WHAT!?" Now Fisk looked incredulous.

"Never mind," Shego snapped at him, before returning her attention to Amy. "If you didn't know you had stowaways, you must have left your lab pretty fast. Why?"

"If you MUST know, Team Possible raided the place," Amy snarled. "I had released all of my test subjects days before. Now, I'm still waiting for my explanation."

"Not quite yet," Shego insisted. "You released your test subjects, why?"

"I had finished my experiments. Now, my explanation."

"Did you chip them? You know, to keep track of them?" Shego's gaze was very intent.

"Of course! Now can I please get my explanation!?"

"Forget it sister!" Shego spun back to her lover. "Get the birdbrain here, now! If those monkeys are chipped and Team Possible chased her out of her lab, wherever it was, you can bet they're on her tail."

"But Shego, she was experimenting on Monkeys!" Fisk protested.

"But I'm still waiting for my explanation!" Amy insisted.

'FINE!" Shego roared at both of them. She turned to Fisk, "Monty, grow up! What's done is done. You can't change the past and the goal remains the same; get the monkey stuff away from Stoppable. Now, since he's on his way, all we have to do is set the trap for him here, but if you don't get the birdbrain here and half-pint warming up his contraption, Team Possible's going to hand us our…never mind! Get moving!"

Next, Shego spun towards Amy as Monty sprinted towards the house, "dumpling, grow up! You grabbed Monty when he was in prison so of course he ran with your creations! Now, if it makes you feel any better, he really felt guilty when the two of us first started, but let's face reality; you're overbearing, dumpy, and you have no style. He isn't attracted to you that way, so get over it. Now, princess and the sidekick are going to track those monkeys here, so you've got a choice. You can either stay here and help or clear out before the fur starts flying."

"But this is my home," Amy protested. "You can't kick me out of my own home!"

"Grow up, Amy, we're all criminals here," Shego reminded the geneticist, in a harsh tone. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry that this is going down here but I'm not leaving and neither are Monty and half-pint. I really can't believe that I have to give 'the world isn't fair, deal with it' speech to another criminal, but that's just the cold hard facts. You can either clear out, in which case we owe you a favor, or you can stay and help, in which case we'll owe you a bigger favor."

Amy burst into tears and ran off into the dimming evening. Shego assumed that she was heading to whatever transportation she had used to get here. She was honestly sorry about blowing the woman's safe-house, but she had bigger fish to fry at the moment. Monty emerged from the house.

"Where's Amy," he asked.

"She's run off," Shego told him. "Don't worry about her, we can make it up to her once we get you the monkey stuff. Now, what about bird-brain?"

"He says that he will be here in about an hour," Fisk answered. "We decided that speed was more important than stealth at this point."

"You're right," Shego approved, then strode towards Dementor's quarters. "Now, we have to get half-pint warming up his machine."

* * *

"Okay, someone just left the house, boarded Amy's aircraft, and took off," Wade reported.

"Can you track it?" Kim asked.

"I'm afraid not," Wade admitted. "It has stealth characteristics, so without the monkey's chip…" The young genius shrugged his shoulders.

"Any way of telling who left?" Kim continued her questions.

"No, I'm using infrared, rather than visible," Wade suddenly frowned. "Which reminds me, one of the remaining people has an elevated temperature."

"Maybe whoever it is has a nasty cold," Ron suggested, remembering what happened when he recovered Ray X.

"Then it's one heck of a fever," Wade replied. "But I guess that's not important right now. You'll be there in a little over an hour and there's three people there right now."

* * *

"So, Ve vill deal vit Stoppable here," Dementor stated. "But vhere at here?"

Shego had to admit that it was a good question. While they wouldn't have to drag the gizmo, with a generator, to another location they still had to have a good idea about where, on the ranch, to engage the boy.

"Okay, how about in the farmyard, between the barn and the house?" Shego suggested. "You can keep your dohickey out of sight the whole time, just throw open the big barn door at the last minute."

"Ja, dat vill vork," Dementor agreed. "Now, I must power up der projector. It takes several minutes before it comes fully on line." Dementor was off and at his work before Shego could come up with a scathing remark to get him moving.

Monty and Shego spent several minutes walking the grounds yet again, positioning themselves to spot Team Possible as quickly as possible and planning how to lure the teens into the open space between the barn and house. They were putting the final touches on their contingencies when Aviarius's vulture-aircraft swooped into the yard.

"When do you expect them?" He asked as he leapt to the ground.

"No idea, birdbrain," Shego answered. "You're with half-pint in the barn." She quickly outlined the plan.

* * *

"Another aircraft just pulled in," Wade reported to the teens. "And one person got out."

"Who left, and who showed up?" Kim wondered. "There should only be four of them, total."

"Maybe they have a henchman," Wade suggested. "Or maybe they're working with WWEE, or some other group."

"We're going to have to play this one by ear," Kim declared. "Do you have any suggestions?"

"Yeah, execute a high altitude jump and come down about a mile to the north of the buildings," Wade advised. "It'll be dark enough to hide you by the time you get there and this way you might catch them by surprise. Whoa!"

"What whoa?" Ron asked. "I don't like whoas."

"I've got a massive power signature coming from the barn, but I'm not reading a corresponding drain on the local grid," Wade reported. "They must have a generator on the property and they must be doing something major."

"Well, we've got our first target to check out," Kim declared.

"And we'll jump in about fifteen minutes," Ron added.

* * *

Amy punched in the course for her other safe-house, the only other such facility she owned. Despite her depression, she remained a professional. While the aircraft flew her to northern Mississippi, she made provisions to divert the equipment she had previously shipped. Tears rolled down her eyes at her betrayal. She knew she wasn't pretty, but how could Monty have been so shallow? And Shego! That…tart just lorded it over her in her own home.

This wasn't over, not by a long shot! Somehow, someway, DNAmy would take her revenge on Monty and Shego!

* * *

Kim and Ron landed on a dark, sagebrush-dotted plain on the edge of a steep, narrow valley. Below them, they could see the handful of buildings that constituted their enemies' home base. Somewhere in there, Monty, Dementor, Aviarius, and DNAmy lurked. The teens were very tempted to wait for backup but the massive power surge meant that something big was taking place and with this bunch, big meant bad. They would have to plunge in and hope they could stop it.

The teens descended the steep drop and crossed a small stream. As they approached the barn, a rustling sounded in the trees above them. Looking up, dropping into combat stances, the teens were confronted with….the two monkeys that had stowed away on DNAmy's aircraft. The two monkeys hopped down to the ground and the female communed with Ron.

"Fisk and a woman are hiding in the barn's loft," Ron reported. "And if these monkeys' descriptions can be trusted, the woman is Shego!"

"What?" Kim demanded, the quickly regained her composure. "It doesn't matter how, if she's there, we have to deal with her. Let's work out how."

* * *

Monty and Shego chose to station themselves in the barn's loft, looking through small holes in the slats. Dementor's machine made a loud buzzing sound, which should bring Team Possible like flies to a bug-zapper. Shego had the farmyard side while Fisk watched the back of the barn. It was dark in the unlit loft, which played to their advantage. Team Possible wouldn't know their location until Fisk and Shego chose to make themselves known. Shego's thoughts were interrupted by a soft tread on the roof above her. She tugged on a string leading from her to Monty, to warn him that something was up. The two met at a ladder, which led to a hatch in the roof. Shego told Monty what was she had heard, climbed the ladder, eased the hatch open a sliver and peeked out to see….

One of the monkeys staring right back at her, inches away. The monkeys shriek actually made her hair blow back, its breath made her flinch and the volume nearly caused her to lose her grip on the ladder. She scampered back down the ladder and told Monty what was going on. She could hear both monkeys on the roof, scampering to the very peak, jumping up and down and shrieking.

'I must capture them or force them to flee," Monty informed Shego. "That noise will surely warn Team Possible about our location."

"I can do it," Shego grabbed the ladder, only to have her lover catch her arm.

"It would be better if I do so," Fisk informed her. "Not only are you our ace in the hole, so to speak, but my prehensile feet will give me an advantage on the steep roof. Keep watch and I will return shortly."

Monkeyfist climbed onto the roof and then up to the peak. The two monkeys shrieked at him the entire way. He tried to coax his former follower to approach, but she would not come near him. He pursued the simians across the roof and down the slope opposite of the one with the hatch. Near the edge of the roof, the monkeys stopped and faced him. Fisk was so intent on them that he didn't notice the sound of a released spring from the ground level. The feel of metal on his ankle was his first warning that something was amiss. He looked down to spot what appeared to be a handcuff, attached to a cable, on his ankle. He had just realized that it was the business end of Ron's wrist grapple when he felt a massive yank on the cable which, combined with the two monkeys tripping him with their tails, was enough to pull him off of the roof.

* * *

Shego, watching the farmyard, had used her ears to track Monty's progress to the peak of the roof, then along the peak, then down the other side. She didn't envy him the chore of chasing monkeys on the roof but she had to admit that he was probably more suited to the task than she was. Suddenly, she heard her lover's shout of fear and surprise and realized that he had either fallen, or had been forced off of, the roof.

She leapt from the loft down to the barn's ground level. She hissed at the shocked Dementor and Aviarius to be ready as she sprinted out of the barn door and around the corner, seeking Fisk. She tripped on something as she turned the corner and fell on her face. She sprang to her feet and spun around to find herself face to face with…

"Hello, Shego," Kim smirked, unleashing a right jab.

* * *

Fisk had been unable to silence his shout when he suddenly found himself in midair. However, he recovered his wits enough to work on his impending landing. The grapple released his ankle when the cable's tension released, so he was able to catch at the limbs of a nearby tree. While he couldn't catch himself before striking the ground, he was able to slow his fall and get his feet underneath him. When he struck the ground, he executed a graceful, forward tumble and sprang lightly to his feet, finding himself face to face with…

"Hello, Monty," Ron's face was stern as he unleashed his kick and punch combination.

* * *

"Well princess, long time no see, at least not in person," Shego was a consummate professional, so she didn't stay shocked for very long. Kim had scored a glancing blow on her jaw, but Shego was quickly back into her game. "The tabloids say that you finally figured out that ol' Ronnie's a boy. Guess you needed a little rebound from the man-doll, eh?"

"Ron's not my rebound," Kim's voice was very calm as she dropped low and spun, attempting to sweep Shego's ankles with her extended foot. Kim continued the spin as she rose to her feet, following her first move with a combination elbow and knee strike.

"Oh, so you're sticking to the story that you really have something going with the boy?" Shego taunted, hopping over Kim's sweeping foot and twisting her head away from Kim's elbow. The redhead's knee, however, scored a solid hit to the side of Shego's thigh. The green woman launched a hard left-right combination, forcing Kim to back off.

"I know you better than that princess," Shego continued, testing her leg's ability to carry her weight. "Ronnie-boy might be a nice guy and he follows you around like a loyal puppy, but he isn't your type. You want the golden hotties. That's why you dropped him for Syntho 901." Shego decided that her leg would hold up just fine and stalked forward, throwing a powerful side kick to really test the appendage.

"What do you know about me and Ron, pre-Erik and Dessie?" Kim's question was almost conversational as she blocked the kick high and threw a quick roundhouse to the back of Shego's supporting knee. Although it didn't land with much force, the kick forced the joint to flex, dropping the green woman on her back.

"More than you'd think, Kimmie," Shego retorted, igniting her fists. Shego threw a couple of wild, glowing haymakers, driving Kim back while the mercenary sprang back to her feet. "That's the problem with being a celebrity, there's so many people digging up the dirt on you that everything comes out. I was able to chat with queenb, whoever she is. That girl told me that you were getting sweet on the sidekick."

Shego resumed the offensive, unleashing another left-right jab combination, followed immediately by a roundhouse kick. Kim was forced to dodge the glowing fists and the kick caught her shoulder. Instead of backing off, Kim went with the force of the kick, spinning around and releasing a spinning back fist that caught Shego in the jaw. The green woman stumbled backwards, flailing for balance.

"Whoa, you've been working out," Shego conceded, dropping once again into her defensive crouch. "I'll bet you and Ronnie have been putting in some time in the gym."

"Don't you know it," Kim answered. She threw a couple of feints with her left fist, which was really a way to gauge how much damage her shoulder had taken. She discovered that she would have a bruise in the morning, but that was about the sum of the damage.

"He can't be much of a boyfriend then," Shego smirked as she came on with a series of jabs. "Teenage boy and teenage girl, it seems you should be able to find _something_ other that workouts to fill up your together time." Shego paused for effect, "Or doesn't Ronnie have _that_ kind of effect on you?"

"Oh, he has that effect all right," Kim retorted, doing several back flips to avoid the glowing fists. "You might not have heard, but his motto is never be normal. Besides, he's not really my boyfriend and he's not my sidekick." Kim ended her last flip with another sweep at Shego's ankles, forcing the mercenary to spring backwards again.

"Then what is he, your rebound?" Shego asked, blocking a knife-hand and dodging the following knee strike.

"No," Kim replied, continuing her offensive. "He's my mate."

* * *

"_Leave, go away, stay safe," _Ron projected his thoughts at the monkeys on the roof as he went after Monty. Fisk managed to block Ron's kick and the first punch but the second punch caught the man in the stomach, forcing him backwards.

"This is hardly sporting, Ronald," Fisk taunted, backpedaling so that he could find the space to set himself.

"Oh, and jumping me with a dozen trained monkeys and a Wakizashi is?" Ron managed to keep his emotions under control while exchanging the banter. "You have a very odd view of chivalry."

"Touché, my young adversary," Fisk drawled, catching his balance and throwing a snap kick at the teen.

Ron stepped back slightly and threw a snap kick of his own, driving the toe of his boot into his adversary's hamstring. Fisk quickly pulled his leg back but was forced to retreat, blocking a rapid series of jabs. Ron forced the man back against the barn, where he couldn't retreat any more. Ron closed in and grappled the man.

Monty, using his sharp, claw-like fingernail, managed to open a cut over Ron's left eye. However, Ron drove his right knee, several times, into Fisk's left thigh muscle before the villain grabbed Ron's leg with his foot. The two remained clenched for several endless seconds before throwing each other back. Fisk, limping, determined to not grapple Ron again while Ron came to the conclusion that clenching up with on opponent who had four grasping appendages was a bad idea.

Ron surged forward again, launching rapid, controlled punches. Monty went on the defensive, blocking most of the blows and retreating along the side of the barn, towards the front of the building.

* * *

A shower of sparks burst from the side of Dementor's machine.

"What was that?" Aviarius demanded, stomping out the fire the sparks had started in some loose hay. "We're going to need that thing in a few minutes!"

"Vone of my fuzes has blown," the short scientist declared. "Und I do not haf another thirty amp fuze!"

"This is no time to be pretty about it," the birdman snarled at his ally. Aviarius looked at the broken fuse then hurried to a workbench. He grabbed a nail and chopped off the head with a set of stout wire cutters. "Use this," he handed the professor the resulting piece of steel. "It'll fit and will keep your machine on line."

"But vitout der protection, mein machine might be damaged!" Dementor protested. "Der distribution box in dis barn might blow if zomething goes wrong!"

"News flash, mien nincompoop," Aviarius snarled. "Shego and monkey boy are losing! If we don't take out Stoppable, we're next! That machine is the only thing that's going to keep us from getting pounded and sent to prison!"

Dementor grumbled but inserted the nail.

* * *

Monty retreated until he was in the farmyard and looked towards the barn. The main door was open, although it was too dark in the barn for him to discern his allies. He set himself, quit retreating and launched his own offensive. To his dismay, Ron did not utilize his normal dodging techniques. Instead, the boy used quick blocks and immediate counterblows to the striking limb. In a matter of minutes, Fisk's arms were covered with painful bruises.

* * *

"I've got der reality zcanned in," Dementor declared in an excited whisper. "Now I've just got to open der portal!" The mad scientist manipulated the controls.

"How long will it take?" Aviarius asked.

"Not long," Dementor assured him. "Just a couple of der minutes!"

"I hope we have that long," the birdman muttered.

* * *

He couldn't retreat, since he had to keep Stoppable in the yard. Of course, his injured leg probably wouldn't support a hasty withdrawal anyway. He could only stand and fight and it was becoming increasingly obvious that young Stoppable had been honing his skills. Monkeyfist was clearly getting the worst of this encounter.

Fisk threw another punch at Ron's head, but the teen blocked it to the outside, stepped in close and buried an elbow into his opponent's chest. Fisk staggered back and Ron refused to give him a chance to recover. One of the villain's flailing hands caught Ron above his eye, opening his wound wider but Ron drove a knee into his belly. Desperate, Fisk tried to tie up Ron in a clench.

* * *

"I've got der portal open!" Dementor exulted. Aviarius lifted and activated his staff, smiling when he realized that the device had a lock on Stoppable's power. Wasting no time, he aimed at the blonde boy.

* * *

Shego was frustrated; princess was supposed to get agitated and sloppy when subjected to these barbed comments. Instead, she seemed much more comfortable with her romantic interest than any teenager should be. Not only that, but little Kimmie had really cranked her game up. Shego vaguely remembered Monty saying something about a school the two teens had visited in Japan.

The mercenary threw another roundhouse kick, but Kim parried the blow, directing it past her belly and forcing Shego to spin more than she had intended. Kim stepped forward, withstood a back fist that grazed her shoulder, and landed a knife-hand strike on Shego's kidney. Shego stiffened for a moment, which was enough for Kim. The teen landed a punch to her opponent's left ear, stunning the villain long enough for Kim to execute a spinning roundhouse kick to the back of Shego's head. The green-hued thief fell flat on her face and didn't move.

Kim didn't spare Shego a second glance; she was out for at least a short while. Kim spotted Ron fighting Monkeyfist. As she broke into a sprint, Fisk attempted to grapple her boyfriend. Ron didn't allow the clench but dropped into a low crouch and drove his shoulder into Fisk's stomach. The blonde teen lifted his opponent and slammed him onto his back. The dazed villain brought his hands up to protect his head, leaving him incapable of blocking Ron's next assault. Kim flinched when her BFBF punched Fisk twice, hard, in the groin.

All the fight abruptly left the monkey man and Ron leapt to his feet, looking for Kim. The two teens shared a satisfied smile and stepped towards each other. Suddenly, a beam of clear light leapt from the barn and skewered Ron. Kim rushed forward again as the beam took on a light blue hue. Aviarius stepped out of the barn, his staff the source of the beam. Before Kim could take any action, the birdman redirected the blue beam onto Fisk.

Ron slumped to the ground as Monkeyfist snapped to his feet, blue light formig a halo aroud him.

A loud scream split the night.

* * *

_A/N_

_As always, a big thank you to Joe Stoppinghem for his invaluable beta services. _

_Thanks to all of you who have taken the time to read and review my efforts._

_Till my next update, best wishes,_

_daccu65_


	26. Be Careful What You Wish For

Chapter 26A: Be Careful What You Wish For

In Middleton, Colorado, a napping Hanna Stoppable woke up, wailing in fright. Jean Stoppable held her daughter, but Hannah would not calm down.

In a mountaintop school in Japan, a bearded, elderly man was strolling between buildings. This sprite man suddenly staggered, clutching a nearby bench too support himself. Several students later reported that the stoic man appeared terrified.

All around the world, monkeys suddenly stopped what they were doing too shriek in rage and fear. This included two monkeys crouched on a barn roof in north central Wyoming. On the ground below these monkeys, Kim Possible rushed forward, towards her BFBF. As she reached Ron's side, she noted that his wrist grapple had fallen from his arm and had somehow morphed into a sword. She shook her head, determined to look into this only after seeing to her BFBF.

"It's gone," Ron murmured in disbelief, struggling to his knees. Kim quickly had her arms around him. "The Mystical Monkey Power is gone."

"What happened?" Kim asked him.

"It was there one moment, then that beam hit me and it was gone," Ron was clearly in shock.

"Where did it go?" Kim began to ask, then she realized that the scream she had heard earlier, the scream that was still sounding, was coming from Monkeyfist.

The two teens stared, wide-eyed, at their adversary. Lord Fisk stood with his head thrown back and his arms extended straight out from his sides. His back was slightly arched and he was standing, or was being supported, on his toes. His wide-open mouth continued its scream of pain and horror. As the teens watched, his eyes opened, sending twin beams of blue light into the dark heavens.

"It's killing him!" Ron blurted. The blonde boy was still exhausted but was regaining his wits.

"What's killing him?" Kim demanded.

"The Mystical Monkey Power! It has a will as well as strength! It doesn't approve of Monty and has rejected him before but because of what Aviarius and Dementor have done, it can't leave him! It must be like swallowing a stomach full of live, angry scorpions!"

"What do I do?" Kim demanded.

"Get those two idiots to undo whatever they did!"

"Right," Kim agreed. She left Ron kneeling in the yard and ran into the barn to confront the techno-villains. She spotted Aviarius first and the birdman fled her, running past the still-screaming Monkeyfist only to be caught by Shego.

"What did you do to him?" The mercenary demanded, catching the bird-obsessed villain by the collar and stopping him hold.

"N-nothing," he protested. "Just what he wanted me to do!"

"He's telling the truth," Kim insisted, approaching her adversary. "Ron thinks that the Mystical Monkey Power is attacking Fisk."

"Okay, how do we stop it?" Shego was never one to mince words.

"Reverse whatever these two did," Kim informed her.

"Do it," Shego ordered, shaking Aviarius for emphasis.

Unfortunately for Shego and Fisk, the situation had the feathered villain more than a little flustered. He fumbled at his staff, trying to reconfigure it to capture the power again. Shego became impatient and shook the man again, while he was twisting a gain adjustment knob. A shower of sparks burst out of the staff.

"You idiot!" Aviarius snapped at the one-time heroine. "Look what you made me do! The power supply's shorted out!"

"Meaning?" Shego's growl prompted him to continue.

"Meaning that I can't manipulate the monkey power with it," Aviarius informed her in a panicked voice. "I don't have the parts to repair the staff!"

"Now what?" Shego's voice had become panicked as she stared Fisk.

"Destroy the staff," Kim suggested. "Maybe the monkey power will go back to where it belongs!"

"What'll happen to Monty if it doesn't?" Shego asked.

"What does he have to lose?" Kim asked. "He can't take that much longer!"

"No!" Aviarius protested. "This staff cost me a fortune, and years to make! I won't let you…"

"Shut up, birdbrain!" Shego snapped. She grabbed the staff with one hand and delivered a backhand that sent the man flying. She ignited her free hand and hammered it into the staff, which shattered into a mass of splinters.

Fisk promptly fell to the ground, the blue light no longer shining from his eyes and the scream no longer sounding from his mouth. Suddenly, a blue nimbus, like a glowing mist began to pour out of his body. It was as if he were sweating, weeping and exhaling the glowing fog. For several, endless seconds, blue glowing vapor emerged from every visible pore in his body to form a large cloud in the sky above him, bathing the farmyard in a blue light.

Shego brushed by Kim to rush to Fisk. Kim noticed Ron stumbling towards his nemesis, and rushed to assist him. Unnoticed, the two monkeys scrambled down from the roof and approached the four humans under the luminous cloud.

"He's got a pulse," Shego reported. "And he's breathing." She gave his face a several, gentle pats with her palm. "Wake up Monty," she pleaded, tears starting to form in her eyes. The monkeyman's eyelids flickered, then opened.

Fisk looked very confused. He looked first at Shego, then at Kim, then Ron, obviously not recognizing any of them. He looked frantically about him until his gaze fell on the two monkeys.

"NOOOooooo!" He screamed, scrambling blindly backwards, away from the simians. "Not monkeys! Keep them away!" Shego moved to restrain him while Ron stumbled towards the monkeys, intent on keeping them away from the panicking Fisk. Kim followed Ron and the two teens interposed themselves between Fisk and the monkeys.

"KP, look at his feet!" Ron hissed when they turned back to Shego and Fisk. Kim looked and her eyes bulged.

Lord Montgomery Fisk's feet were now normal, human feet. Kim also noticed that his hands were no longer the oversized, clawed monkey hands but were now normal, human hands. Fisk was still babbling incoherently so Kim was also able to note that his canine teeth had become normal, human teeth.

All traces of…monkeyness…had been erased from his body.

Unnoticed in the drama, the blue mist above them suddenly roiled and swirled.

By the time either Kim or Ron noticed the cloud's motion, it had formed a vortex, pointed at Ron. To Kim, it looked like water forming a whirlpool while pouring down a drain, or perhaps like a dust cloud being sucked in by a vacuum cleaner. Whatever the analogy, the blue mist poured out of the sky and into her BFBF. Ron took on a light blue hue and floated a few feet into the air.

* * *

In Middleton, Colorado, Hanna Stoppable ceased wailing and accepted the comfort offered by her adoptive mother. She calmed quickly, as if waking up from a nightmare that was now over.

In Japan, an elderly schoolmaster felt a great burden of doubt lift from his heart. Regaining his composure, he strode for his quarters, issuing commands for his advisors to meet him there.

Around the world, monkeys suddenly calmed. Many looked and sniffed about them, as if searching for an imaginary predator that had never been present. Most went about whatever they had been doing before their sudden panic. In north central Wyoming, two monkeys leapt and shrieked below the reinstated Ultimate Monkey Master, reveling in joy and triumph.

Kim watched as her BFBF extended his right hand towards the sword lying on the ground. The weapon answered the summons, the hilt striking Ron's palm with a resounding smack. The blonde teen looked at the blade for a moment and it changed shape. Had Kim been more of a medieval weapons buff, she would have recognized the reformed weapon as a Frankish throwing axe. However, she was more intent upon the interior of the barn, which was suddenly illuminated by a burst of blue light from Ron's eyes. Inside, she saw Dementor, standing next to some contraption while gawking at Ron in amazement.

Ron hurled the axe at the machine. The spinning blade barely missed the diminutive scientist and plunged into the machine. The machine exploded, sending Dementor sprawling. An electrical box behind the machine erupted in a burst of sparks. Suddenly, the interior of the barn was dark again.

Ron floated to the ground, extended his hand and caught the returning axe, which turned back into a sword. Ron took a deep, cleansing breath and turned his blue glowing gaze upon Kim. He offered her a weary smile and closed his eyes for a moment; when he reopened them, they were their normal brown and the blue aura around him had vanished. It was a very normal Ron Stoppable who collapsed into Kim's arms.

Kim eased Ron to the ground and looked at Shego. The mercenary had hoisted Monkeyfi…no, not Monkeyfist, Lord Fisk, over her shoulders in a fireman's carry. Seeing the teenager's gaze upon her, Shego extended one glowing fist.

"Just stay back, princess," she growled. "I know you'll probably dodge my plasma, but Ronnie ain't moving right now."

"What do you want, Shego?" Kim snarled.

"I just want to take Monty and leave," Shego told her. "Don't get any funny ideas about stopping me. If you so much as move, I'm frying your mate." Shego offered a tight grin as she used Kim's term for Ron.

"And if I don't move?" Kim prompted.

"I take the birdbrain's aircraft and clear out," Shego told her. "When your backup shows up, you have to explain that two teens stepped into an ambush set by four of the world's most wanted villains. You not only survived but you captured two of them and recovered the vortex inducer. Not exactly bad press, princess."

"And if I try to stop you?" Kim asked.

"You'll probably succeed," Shego told her. "But I'll take out Ronnie before you can take me down. Your choice, princess."

"Why are you sacrificing Dementor and Aviarius," Kim demanded. "But rescuing Monty?"

"I think you can figure it out, princess," Shego drawled. "If not, you'll understand after you stay with Ronnie a little longer. Speaking of which…"She prompted, pointing her glowing hand at the unmoving Ron.

"Go!" Kim spat.

"Thought you'd see it my way," Shego gloated. "If I were some sort of hero, I'd get in the barn and pull the half-pint out before that fire gets any worse." She pointed her chin to where a fire, started by either the exploding machine or the shorted electrical box, was growing.

"Oh, by the way princess," Shego glared at the redhead. "Don't think that this is over. We'll meet up again." With that, Shego sprinted to Aviarius's vulture aircraft and tossed Monty inside. Kim kept a close eye on the mercenary until the aircraft flew off, into the night.

Rufus and the two monkeys were hovering around Ron when Kim returned her attention to her BFBF.

"Is he going to be okay, Rufus?" Kim asked the rodent.

"Yep!" Rufus squeaked in return. "Wake up soon!"

Kim didn't question how the mole rat could know Ron's condition, she had learned to take it on faith that he did. She keyed the Kimmunicator as she ran for the barn.

"How long till we get backup?" She demanded of Wade.

"Just a few minutes," the young genius assured her. "What happened? There's been massive electrical and infrared surges at your location!"

"That's just the beginning," Kim growled, starting to cough in the barn's smoky interior. "Just get the backup here ASAP and let them know that there's casualties. Gotta go, Kim out."

Kim shoved the communications device back into her cargo pocket and grabbed Dementor. The thick smoke forced the teen heroine to crawl, dragging the villain behind her. By the time she reached Ron, the blonde boy was starting to move, feebly. Kim spent a couple of minutes sucking fresh air into her lungs.

"Will you be able to handle Dementor if he comes to while I'm looking for Aviarius?" Kim asked Rufus and the monkeys.

In reply, the female monkey (Kim assumed it was the female, all monkeys looked the same to her) picked up the sword and held the edge to Dementor's throat.

"Yep!" Rufus assured her.

Kim smiled at her companions, lurched to her feet and staggered off to locate the last villain in the area. She followed the trajectory that Shego had sent him upon and found the man as he was struggling to his feet. He flinched with every move he made.

"I've got broken or cracked ribs," he gasped when she approached. "I'm not putting up any fight."

True to his word, he didn't offer any resistance as she secured his hands behind him. She led him back towards Ron and Dementor, assisting him along the way. Ron's eyes were open and the young man was struggling to his hands and knees as she approached. A high pitched whistle heralded the arrival of a Global Justice hoverjet. Relief flooded through the young woman.

Kim helped Aviarius seat himself next to Dementor, who was showing signs of regaining consciousness. Once the birdman was seated, as comfortably as his injuries would allow, Kim turned her attention to Ron.

"How are you feel-"

Kim's question was interrupted when, inside the barn, the forklift's propane fuel tank exploded. Kim felt a pinching sensation, almost like an insect sting, low on her abdomen. There was no pain, so she was more surprised than concerned when she looked down and saw blood running out of a hole in her clothing. She was more surprised when she suddenly found herself unable to stand.

Her collapse was halted when strong arms wrapped around her. She felt strangely calm as Ron eased her to the ground and Rufus dug the Kimmunicator out of her pocket. "_Am I dying_?" She calmly wondered. "_If so, at least I'll do it in Ron's arms_."

However, she didn't remain in Ron's arms. Once she was on the ground, the blonde boy tore a field dressing from his backpack, tore her shirt away from her abdomen, and pressed the bandage to the wound. In the meantime, Rufus had keyed the Kimmunicator.

"We need evac NOW Wade," Ron snapped, maintaining the pressure on the wound. "Kim's taken some shrapnel to the stomach!"

"A GJ team will be on the ground in under a minute," Wade assured his friend. While Kim couldn't see the Kimmunicator's screen, she could hear the concern in the boy's voice. "I'm informing them that they'll have to evacuate her, I'm locating the nearest trauma center, and I'm alerting them to expect a patient."

"Hang in there, KP," Ron urged her, in a low voice. "You can't leave me alone after we finally got together!"

Kim smiled at him. She still felt no pain, so she didn't know how badly she was injured. She frowned when two Global Justice medics nudged Ron away from her.

"Approximately seventeen year old Caucasian female," one of the medics barked into a microphone. "Suffering a shrapnel wound to the lower abdomen. No head wounds or blunt force trauma evident. We're starting her on blood expanders and are evacuating immediately." Kim was too bemused to feel embarrassed as the medics tore off a good portion of her clothing to get better access to her wound.

"Situation report," Will Du curtly demanded of Ron.

"Du, if you don't get Kim out of here right now…" Ron snarled at the agent.

"Relax, Stoppable," Du snapped back. "The medics will stabilize her before evacuating her. Her care is now the top priority. Now, you have enough time to give me the major points.

"Okay, we trailed DNAmy here. We got jumped by Monkeyfist, Shego, Dementor and Aviarius."

"Where are they now?"

"Dementor and Aviarius are tied up at your feet," Ron gestured to the two villains. "We never saw Amy and I've been out for awhile so I don't know what happened to the other two."

"What about these two monkeys?" Du demanded.

"They go with me," Ron retorted. "And since I'm going with Kim, I guess they go out on the evacuation."

"And the sword?" Du prompted, pointing at the weapon in one of the monkey's paws. "Is that yours?"

"What sword?" Ron demanded. "It's my wrist grapple."

Du looked back to the monkey and saw that Ron was telling the truth.

"But, it was a sw-" Du's protest was cut off by one of the medics.

"We're ready to load her!"

Du may have been something of a jerk but he would never give less than his best on a mission. Since his primary mission was Kim's safety, he helped Ron and the medics carry Kim's stretcher to the hoverjet.

"You're going to have a rougher time at the formal debriefing," Du informed Ron, in a cold voice, as the hoverjet's hatch closed.

"I so don't care right now," Ron muttered under his breath, taking Kim's hand.

Kim never lost consciousness on the trip, spending most of the time smiling at how Ron struggled to explain the monkeys' presence to the flight crew.

* * *

_A/N: _

_Sorry for the short chapter, it just seemed to be a good stopping point. This story still has a ways to go, so if you're enjoying it, don't worry, it's not done by a long shot. If you hate it, I really wonder why you're even reading this, but I'm sorry, anyway._

_Thanks to everyone who has been reading and reviewing this work. Your encouragement and acknowledgement mean a great deal to me. _

_Big thanks to Joe Stoppinghem, for his ever-patient Beta efforts. _

_Until next update, best wishes, _

_daccu65_


	27. Aftermath

Chapter 27: Aftermath

Dr. Anne Possible stormed down the hallway, flanked on one side by her husband and on the other side by Gene Stoppable. The few interns, nurses, custodians and maintenance staff, whose jobs required them to be in the hospital at this time of night, took one look at the redhead's face and wisely moved out of her path. While she knew that her daughter was currently in one of the operating rooms, there was no way she was going to barge in. Anne Possible just might don surgical scrubs and slip in, but not until after speaking with…

She spotted her quarry in the waiting room. Ron Stoppable took one look at the oncoming adults and lurched to his feet, like a man facing an oncoming executioner. An untreated cut over the boy's left eye was clearly becoming infected. There was also some general bruising around his face and neck and fatigue etched itself in every move the boy made. Anne was so stunned that the staff hadn't insisted on treating the boy that she was speechless for a moment, which was all that her husband needed.

"Please sit down, Ronald," Dr. James Possible instructed the boy. "If you're expecting Anne or myself to rip your head off, you're going to be disappointed. We just want you to tell us everything you know about Kimmie Cub."

"She was awake for the entire trip," Ron answered, lowering himself to a chair with the assistance of both his father and James Possible. "She was awake when they took her in there, around two hours ago."

"What happened to her?" James prompted.

"I'm not sure," Ron confessed. "We had taken the bad guys down when there was some sort of an explosion inside the barn." At the three adults' confused look, he explained further. "We had tracked the bad guys to a farm, they had some device inside a barn. It started on fire during the fight."

"Okay, Ronald," Anne Possible stepped forward. "How did the explosion injure Kimmie?"

"The medics and doctors say that she caught some shrapnel in the lower abdomen," Ron answered, pointing towards his waist. "Since the two bad guys and I were down at the time, it all flew over our heads." He dropped his face in his hands. "I'm sorry Mr. Dr. P, Mrs. Dr. P."

"Whatever for, Ronald?" Anne asked. "You stood by her through another mission. Both of you have been hurt before."

"Yeah, but this was **my** mission," Ron sobbed. "We had a…tip…that DNAmy was in Central America, doing some experiments on monkeys. We thought that if we tracked her down we'd find Monkeyfist. We weren't expecting to find all four of them."

"You were ambushed?" Gene asked his son. "But who all attacked you?"

"That's confidential information, at least for the moment," another voice announced. The Possibles and Stoppables turned around to see…

"Dr. Director," Ron gasped, surging once more to his feet.

"Relax, Stoppable," GJ's head told the boy. "You haven't revealed any secrets. I came to check on you and Kim, and to inform you that the Japanese Embassy has requested that you not receive any debriefing until after a so-called special representative speaks to you. The hospital staff has also told me that you have refused treatment until Kim is out of surgery." Ron nodded.

"Here is what we're going to do," the trim, older woman informed everyone. "Dr. Anne Possible can scrub up and observe the final stages of Kim's surgery. Mr. Stoppable and myself will escort Ron to the emergency department, where we will assure that he submits to a medical examination and treatment. Dr. James Possible will stay here, to pass information between the two groups. Agreed?"

Everyone nodded, even Ron.

"Uh, dad?" Ron asked. "What about mom? Is she well enough that she can be alone right now?"

"She's not alone Ronald," his father informed him. "The Possibles dropped Tim and Jim off. In addition to that, Global Justice sent a guard, in case Shego decides to try for revenge. Finally, Yori showed up and asked if she could be of any help."

Ron immediately relaxed. The idea of Yori guarding his mother and sister was more comforting than the idea of the Global Justice agent.

"Now, Ronald," James Possible cut in. "Dr. Director is right. We need to get you taken care of. Kim is going to be upset if you walk into her room looking like that."

Ron nodded and climbed to his feet.

"Ronald," his father chimed in. "What's that thing that you just slipped into your pocket?"

"Oh, this? It's just my harmonica." Ron produced the instrument.

"I didn't know that you played," Gene Stoppable commented.

"I don't, at least not yet," Ron stammered. "I just…er…recently got it. I thought it would be handy to have with me at times."

"I just hope that it comes off sounding better than your piano playing," Gene chuckled at his son. "Come on, Dr. Director's correct. Let's get you some medical attention."

A doctor cleaned out the wounds over Ron's eye and stitched them closed. She also gave him some antibiotics too fight his growing infection. "_That's another one I owe Monty_," Ron thought. "_He didn't even have the decency to clean his fingernails before clawing up my face." _

Ron looked at his reflection while waiting to be released. "_Between the scar from my tussle with Syntho 901 and this one from Monty, I almost look like I'm wearing a monocle on my left eye_."

His musings were cut short when the doctor returned and released him. His father and Dr. Director were waiting for him as he came out.

"Kim is out of surgery," Gene informed his son. "She's doing well and the antibiotics she has received have made her sleepy. She's asleep right now."

"The current mission is to get you to a hotel room," Dr. Director informed the teen. "And into a shower. After that, if Miss Possible is awake, you can visit her. If she's still asleep we'll either get you some food or put you to bed."

Ron suddenly realized that he was tired, filthy, and famished. He was only partially aware as his father led him to a nearby hotel. The shower felt like a slice of heaven. Ron lathered and rinsed his body twice, reflecting that the grime coming off of him was a mixture of Wyoming and Belizean soil. He emerged from the shower to see Rufus using the sink as his own shower. After a few minutes, the rodent had finished, freeing up the sink for Ron to shave and brush his teeth.

"Kim's still asleep, Ronald," his father informed him, as he and Rufus emerged from the bathroom. "I decided to not make you choose between a restaurant and a bed."

Ron's father had brought in some Chinese takeout while he had been cleaning up. It had been a wise move; Ron fell asleep halfway through his second plateful.

* * *

The sun shining in the room woke Ron. His first conscious thought was to look at his watch. Forcing his tired brain to perform some simple math, the teenager realized that he had managed about three hours of sleep. It was now Sunday morning and he had managed about five hours of sleep on Friday night. While eight hours of sleep over two days wasn't enough for a growing teenager, it would have to do. He recalled that KP was in the hospital and that he was staying in a hotel with his father. He looked to the other bed to see…

Mr. and Mrs. Dr. P?

His BFGF's 'rents were fast asleep, so he didn't make any noise as he slipped out of bed and into the bathroom. There was a note, from his father, on the sink. He picked it up to read:

_Ronald:_

_Kimberly woke up for a short time while you were out. She spoke with her parents for a short time before she fell asleep again. I sent her parents to the room to get some rest, and to leave this note on the sink. I have also called your mother, and she and Hanna are also doing fine. Kimberly is resting at this time. Please come to the hospital when you wake up. Keep in mind that although we are rather isolated here, the nation's tabloid and celebrity reporters have realized that there is a news story and are starting to show up._

_Kim's doctors, other than her mother, have stated that they will probably release her this afternoon. While they usually don't release a patient on a Sunday, they have made an exception since Kim's mother is a doctor and they want to avoid the deluge of press that will arrive on Monday. We have already rented a van, so that she can lay down and relax on the way. _

Ron sighed; the last thing he needed was to deal with a nosy press. No, actually the last thing he needed was to deal with all of the remaining techno-villains, followed by a Mr. Barkin pop quiz. A nosy press came in a close second. The blonde boy quickly changed into the clean clothing his father had brought. He moved quietly through the room, pocketed his 'harmonica', and slipped outside. Angry thoughts started to stir as he walked the three blocks to the hospital.

It was all his fault! If he had just made use of the blade at the beginning, instead of trying to keep it secret! He could have used the blade and eliminated Fisk, then helped Kim eliminate Shego. That would have left Dementor and Aviarius alone, without henchmen or deadly gizmos. Maybe it was time to make more open use of the blade. Yet, how could he do that without compromising Yamanouchi's secrecy? Ron recalled that he would soon be meeting with some sort of special representative from the school. He would bring this up at that time.

The teen reached the hospital's front entrance and the two reporters waiting there. He had a few moments during which he wished that Kim hadn't been so adamant about him receiving recognition for his actions, when the reporters recognized him and started to deluge him with questions. He was grateful that Dr. Director had told him not to talk about the situation. With only two reporters, it was easy to explain that the events were still under investigation and that he couldn't discuss them at this time. He then made use of his elusive, football running skills to fake to the left then dart to the right, slipping by them and into the hospital, where a security guard refused to let them enter. Ron was grateful when a staff member appeared and led him to Kim's room.

Ron stepped inside to be greeted by the view of his BFGF sleeping peacefully. He went into ninja mode, sliding up to her bedside as quietly as he possibly could. He was sorely tempted to reach out and take her hand but didn't want to wake her up. Instead, he just stood there drinking in her beauty. His unbelievable good fortune that someone as beautiful and as incredible as her could want him, and the fact that he came close to loosing her, rose up again, bringing tears to his eyes. Movement at her bedside distracted him.

Ron had been so intent on Kim that he hadn't noticed his father sitting next to her bed, reading a newspaper. Ron was further shocked by how exhausted his father appeared to be. Gene Stoppable made a motion with his head, indicating that he wanted to talk to Ron in the hall.

"She's still asleep," Gene told his son. "She has woken up a couple of times and has asked about you. When I told her that you were resting, she relaxed and went back to sleep. Now, before you ask, her condition is similar to yours after the Bueno Nacho fight. She will make a full recovery but it may take a number of weeks. We'll get some more details later this morning."

"How about mom and Hanna?" Ron asked.

"I spoke to your mother a couple of hours ago," Gene informed his son. "Everything is as normal as can be expected. Yori seems determined to help out and is still with them. Now, how about you?"

"I can't complain," Ron answered, reaching up to touch the bandages over his eye. "The swelling seems to be going down just a little and the sleep did me a world of good." The teen looked at the bags under his father's eyes. "Why don't I sort of take over here while you go catch some sleep?"

"That sounds like a good idea, " The older Stoppable smiled.

"Dad?"

"Yes, Ronald?"

"Thanks, for everything."

Gene Stoppable didn't say anything; he simply caught his son in a short, fierce hug before walking down the hall.

* * *

Shego looked out over the desolate landscape and sighed. This was one of her least favorite hideouts but she had to admit that it was probably the most secure. It had been tunneled into the Tibesti Mountains in northern Chad, within a few kilometers of the Libyan border. As such, it was well hidden in a region that nobody paid any attention to, anyway.

She and Monty would be secure here for some time. The hideout had its own wells, so water wasn't an issue despite the kilometers of surrounding desert. She had stocked the larders with enough food to keep a group of twenty people fed for six months, so she and Monty could remain well, if plainly, fed for years. A state-of-the-art communications system provided her with anonymous contact to the outside world and deep underground, far beneath her feet, one of Dr. Drakken's cold fusion reactors could power the complex for decades, if not longer. Yet, despite the planning that had gone into preparing this retreat, Shego had some problems to overcome.

The first problem was transportation. The hideout had two SUVs, which had been converted to run on hydrogen. The reactor powered an electrolysis chamber which, combined with the wells, meant that Shego had plenty of fuel for local trips. Unfortunately, she had used up most of the fuel in Aviarius's aircraft to just get here and it ran on jet fuel. Neither she nor Monty had the technical expertise to convert the engines to run on the plentiful hydrogen.

The second problem was financial. Since Shego's 'escape attempt,' Interpol had located and liquidated the majority of her secret accounts. While she still had enough to sustain her and Monty for several months, it wouldn't last forever. Shego was smart enough to not let herself become so destitute that she would have to take a job out of desperation. No, she was going to have to start putting out feelers for work, soon. While she had promised herself no more violent, take over the world attempts, there were plenty of other criminal enterprises out there willing to pay her some good cash for her services. Still, she would have to leave this hideout in order to track down the work and that brought up the next problem, Monty.

Whatever the monkey stuff had done to her lover had gone well beyond the physical. He hadn't said a word during the trip from Wyoming. Even now, he sat on one of the beds, staring at the wall. She had spoken to him for a few minutes, before coming up to the observation post to think. He knew his name, her name, and some other, general information but he seemed to not really care. While he didn't appear to have brain damage, he was clearly in a deep depression and Shego didn't have the slightest idea how to snap him out of it.

Her final problem centered around Dr. Drakken. Hiding out wasn't doing anything too spring him out of prison. While Shego was a criminal, Drakken had taken the fall so that she could get out of the joint and bust him out. While she hadn't gotten out by the usual method, she was out right now and it was her job to spring him. The only problem was that she would need resources and information to do the job and they required time and money. Time was running out, money was in short supply, and she wasn't about to earn any while isolated in a desert, with no work, and hauling a catatonic man behind her.

Shego sighed again and decided that doing anything was preferable to doing nothing. She turned her back on the desolate, yet somehow beautiful, vista before her and made her way to the communications center. It was time to start putting out some feelers.

* * *

She opened her eyes and immediately recognized her hospital room. Looking at the chair next to her bed, she expected to see Mr. Stoppable, and did. It just happened to be Mr. Stoppable, the younger as opposed to Mr. Stoppable, the elder. Her BFBF stared at her, unable to speak.

"Hey," she commented, just to break the silence.

"KP," he stammered, reaching out to take her hand. "I-I'm so sorry."

"Sorry?" She asked. "What for?"

"For letting you get hurt," he said, tears starting to stream out of his eyes. "For dragging you into that situation. For not taking out Monty fast enough. For…"

"Shhh," she squeezed his hand to drive home her command. "Ron, it's what we do, we both know the score. Besides, I wasn't hurt fighting the bad guys, it was a freak accident."

"Still, KP, I could have finished Monty of faster and this never would have hap…"

"Ron, stop! We can't keep second-guessing ourselves. Now, I am tweaked about something."

"What?" The fear in his voice was obvious.

"I've been awake for over a minute and you haven't kissed me yet."

Ron was attending to that oversight when Kim's parents rushed into the room.

"The therapeutic benefits of lip-mashing aside," Anne Possible quipped, smiling at how quickly Ron snapped straight. "Dr. Director is giving a press conference at the front entrance right now. Perhaps you could interrupt your therapy long enough to watch?"

Kim smiled at her mother as she turned on the television. Finding the correct station wasn't difficult; the conference was just starting on all of the major networks.

"Thank you all for attending," Dr. Director addressed the reporters in her crisp, professional manner. "I shall provide you with all, non-classified information about Team Possible's activities during the last thirty-six hours. After which, I will answer any questions that do not require me to compromise security. Very well, let's begin."

"This past Friday evening, Team Possible received a lead on the whereabouts of the individual known as DNAmy. Since this source only contacted the team on condition of anonymity, the team was unable to utilize any governmental transportation. As many of you know, Team Possible does not charge for their services and numerous, former clients assist them with free transportation. Team Possible's technical expert made use of this extensive network of favors too arrange transportation to DNAmy's reported location, in Central America. The team located DNAmy who escaped during the resulting confrontation. However, Team Possible managed to plant a tracking chip on the vehicle Amy used to escape."

"While Team Possible reported Amy's location to Global Justice," Dr. Director continued. "We had no tactical assets ready to deploy. They once again utilized their network of favors to arrange transportation back to the United States. DNAmy reached her destination, in north central Wyoming, while the team was still in-route. Team Possible immediately arranged for alternative transportation to this location."

"The team reached this location and their technical support obtained satellite photographs of the property, before any law enforcement assets could reach the location. Kim Possible decided to enter the property, in order too avoid giving the suspects any chance of escape." Dr. Director looked at the assembled reporters; "I fully support this decision. Upon entering the property, the team was attacked by the villains known as Monkeyfist, Shego, Aviarius, and Professor Dementor. During the confrontation, Monkeyfist and Shego escaped while Team Possible captured Aviarius and Dementor and recovered the pan dimensional vortex inducer. Shortly after the confrontation, an explosion wounded Kim Possible."

"At this time," Dr. Director concluded. "Both Dementor and Aviarius are in custody. The NSA is holding the pan dimensional vortex inducer at an undisclosed location. NSA and FBI teams are searching the confrontation site for further evidence. Kim Possible is currently receiving treatment in the facility behind me. I will not disclose the nature or extent of her injuries other than to say that she's expected to make a complete recovery. Now, what are your questions for me?"

In the ensuing burst of questions, Dr. Director picked out one reporter, "Mr. Brennings," she announced. "What do you wish to know?"

"You said that Kim Possible had tracked DNAmy to a location in Central America," the aforementioned reporter responded. "In which country was she located?"

"The government in question will make a formal announcement tomorrow," Dr. Director answered. "Until such time, Global Justice will not reveal the identity. Next question… Ms. Jung."

"What can you reveal about the nature of this anonymous tip that Kim Possible received?" A middle-aged, Asian woman asked.

"_**TEAM**_ Possible did not request Global Justice assistance until after they had positively identified DNAmy…"

"I'm beginning to like her even more," Kim murmured to Ron.

"Therefore, Global Justice will not compromise the anonymity of these sources, nor will we request the identity from Team Possible," Dr. Director informed her listeners. "Next question… Mr. Chonkrite."

"Thank you Dr. Director," a somewhat elderly man responded. "Will Global Justice, or any other agency, hold Kim Possible responsible for allowing Shego, Monkeyfist and DNAmy to escape?"

"Not at all," Dr. Director informed him. "As you man know, one of our top agents attempted to apprehend two of these four suspects a couple of months ago. Not only did he not succeed; he was captured in the attempt. We had indications that these suspects were operating some, unknown piece of machinery at the time that _**TEAM**_ Possible confronted them. As we suspected that Professor Dementor was on the property and in possession of the inducer, we did not have time to assemble a tactical team. The ramifications were too severe. The fact that these _**TWO**_ teenagers were able to actually apprehend two of the suspects and recover the inducer is very impressive. I'll take one more question…" Dr. Director showed an almost imperceptible smile, "Warren."

Kim and Ron smiled as their reporter friend asked, "Dr. Director, I'm curious as to Kim and Ron's status now that they've apprehended two of the villains on the FBI's most wanted list."

"Perhaps I can answer this one, Dr. Director?" Cameras panned to show Agent Smith and Agent Smith.

"Of course," Dr. Director answered. "Ladies and gentlemen of the press, I would like to introduce Agents Smith and Smith, special agents reporting to both the FBI and the NSA."

"Thank you," Agent Smith replied. "As some of you are undoubtedly aware, the NSA had offered a fairly substantial reward for information leading to the recovery of the pan dimensional vortex inducer. The FBI had also posted rewards for information leading to the apprehension of the five criminals involved in this confrontation. As Team Possible was acting as private citizens and not as law enforcement agents, they will receive the monetary rewards for capturing Dementor and Aviarius, as well as for recovering the inducer."

Kim and Ron stared at each other, open-mouthed. "But.." Kim began, only to quiet down as Agent Smith took over the interview from Agent Smith.

"We have spoken with Team Possible's financial advisor," Agent Smith explained. "In light of the teens' status as minors, and their tendency to refuse monetary rewards, the money shall be placed in an educational trust fund."

"We have a financial advisor?" Ron asked Kim. "Who is it?"

"Your father, Ron," Mr. Dr. Possible answered, with a slight chuckle. "We had to talk about something while Global Justice flew us up here, just to keep our mind off of Kim's injuries. Somehow, the topic of these rewards came up and Gene suggested we use the rewards to further your education."

"Make taking a financial reward sound noble much?" Kim asked.

"Uh-oh, Dr. Director's on her way," Ron chimed in. On the screen, Dr. Director concluded the interview and strode briskly into the hospital. Ron found something surreal about watching the woman walking away on television, while she was, in reality, heading his way.

* * *

It was Mr. Dr. Possible who was driving the van when it pulled into the Possibles' driveway after midnight, Monday morning. Dr. Director had been all business during her last meeting with the teens and the present 'rents. First, she had assured herself that Dr. Anne Possible would take Kim to see a specialist on Monday (Ann had already scheduled the appointment for the afternoon). She had then stressed to the teens the need to not speak to anybody until after their debriefings with the Yamanouchi representative and had then congratulated them on a job well done. Shortly after her departure, Kim's doctor talked a little shop with Anne, using terms that the rest of them just didn't understand. A couple of hours later, the five were in a full sized van, with Kim on an air mattress in the back, heading south.

Ron roused himself as the van slowed to a stop. While KP would be staying home for the next few days (both standing and sitting up were still painful for her) he would have to be in school, and football practice, tomorrow. He grabbed Kim's backpack and the bags that her 'rents had brought with them for the trip. As such, he missed the sly expression that showed, momentarily, on James Possible's face.

"Ronald," he said. "I've had a little twinge in my back lately. Could you carry Kimmie-Cub to the couch?"

"Sure," Ron replied. The blonde boy lifted his girlfriend into his arms, her arms settling around his neck and her head resting against his chest. Mr. Dr. Possible scooped up the Possibles' baggage, showing no sign of a sore back, and gave Gene Stoppable a quick wink behind Ron's back. He waited until Ron was just about to step through the front door.

"Besides," he deadpanned. "You could use the practice carrying Kimmie through a threshold."

"Eeep," Ron squeaked, keeping a careful hold on Kim. Kim, despite her discomfort, simply smiled and tucked her head under her BFBF's chin as he carried her through the door, to the den and set her gently on the couch.

* * *

DNAmy sat in the luxurious chair, still blubbering. She had no sooner arrived at her only remaining safe house than two people, sent by her former employer, had arrived and invited her to visit him at his private residence. Since she really didn't care what happened to her at the moment, she had accepted. Surprisingly, polite servants had ushered her into a comfortable den, where a very polite, compassionate woman had started to talk to her. Amy had poured out all of her heartache before she realized that she had been speaking to some form of mental health professional.

Her musings were interrupted when the door opened and her benefactor shambled in. Her professional pride forced her to notice that he was walking much better, if still shakily.

"Amy," he began, taking the chair behind the desk. "I understand that you've had a very harsh personal experience."

"Yes," Amy sobbed. "I-I took on the risk of helping you, of missing my parole meetings, so that I could provide a place to live with Monty. He cheated on me in my own bed! That hussy and him kicked me out of my own home. I-I know that I'm not beautiful, but doesn't my intelligence and generosity count for anything?

"They should, Amy," the man assured her. "But too many people are just shallow. They are so taken by charm and physical attractiveness that they ignore the important traits, such as intelligence and character. I should know, trust me, no woman every showed any interest in me while I was in that chair, yet I overcame such prejudice to become the world's most influential industrialist. You've overcome your physical shortcomings to become the world's greatest geneticist. Why don't we make use of our talents to overcome this…personal prejudice against us?"

"What do you mean?" Amy asked him.

"Just this, you are a geneticist, you can remake both of us into any form we wish. Didn't you say that you were doing some research on using gigantopithicus DNA to make humans larger and stronger?"

Amy nodded.

"Then do so! When I met you, I was a helpless lump of flesh, confined to a wheelchair. Now I can walk and talk and I'm getting stronger every day. Don't stop there! Make me something greater than human; make yourself something greater than human! My full resources will be at your disposal. Let the rest of the world look upon us, the very people they mocked and scorned, with envy, awe and fear! Make us something more, so that we can found a new race to rule over these shallow, foolish beings around us!"

DNAmy sat, speechless as the possibilities ran through her mind. Her benefactor played his trump card.

"It's time for humanity to make the next step" he urged. "Let the two of us, scientist and industrialist, join together to pioneer that change! We will found a new race, in my name, to rule!"

Amy remembered Shego's mocking words, that she was dumpy and unattractive. Yes, it was time to show everyone who had mocked her what an ambitious geneticist could become. "_Beware the wrath of a patient man," _she thought. "_Or woman, in this case_."

"Mr. Loward," she said. "You have a deal."

* * *

_A/N_

_Another chapter in the books, dear friends, and I hope that you've enjoyed it. Thanks to everyone who has taken the time to comment. The reviews, and PMs are a real inspiration. Thank you._

_Big thanks to Joe Stoppinghem, for taking the time out of his busy life to beta read. Thanks Joe._

_Till the next update, best wishes,_

_daccu65_


	28. Meetings and Fallout

Chapter 28: Meetings and Fallout

Ron Stoppable staggered on his way to his BFGF's house. The term 'worn out' didn't do him justice at this moment. After dropping the Possibles off in the wee hours of the morning, he and his father had gone home to an extremely clingy Hanna Stoppable. At least she was clingy towards Ron. The little girl fussed every time the Stoppableshad tried to put her in her crib. After a full hour, Ron sacked out on the couch, withthe little girl next to him. Of course, Ron wound up withconsiderably less sleep than an active, growing teen really needed.

When Ron woke up, Hanna was much more herself, so his first order of business was to check on the monkeys. Wade had scared up a ride for them to Middleton, and they had made their way to his tree house. Ron had rounded up enough food to last them until the next evening and tried to tell them to keep hidden. He then asked Wade to find a ride back to Belize for them. With his simian subjects taken care of, Ron walked to Kim's house.

While he knew that KP wouldn't be attending school and since she had completed her homework assignments, he would taking them to her teachers. He also wanted to check up on her. She was still asleep when he arrived at the Possibles', so he wound up walking with Jim and Tim to school, grumbling about Kim's luck getting to sleep in. While he was honestly fond of his BFGF's younger siblings, they were curious and took advantage of the walk to subject him to a barrage of questions. The combination of his tired mind and their teamwork meant that he almost coughed up a classified detail on several occasions. He walked into school with a sense of relief.

Mistake. There were certain sights one did not want to see when one did not feel like talking about a tumultuous weekend. At the top of this list was Monique, planted firmly in your path with her arms crossed and Felix at her side.

"Alright, Blondie," she had greeted her friend. "SLALG."

"Eh?" Ron asked.

"Spill like a leaky glass," she had clarified. "If you think I'm letting up on you for one minute, you are sadly mistaken."

"I can't talk about most of it," Ron had protested.

"Too bad," Monique had responded. "That means that you can talk about _some_ of it. So start at the game Friday and just keep jawing about everything you can." Monique and Felix flanked Ron on his way to homeroom.

"So does this have something to do with your two trips to Japan?" Felix asked him, just outside of the classroom.

"What do you mean?" Ron sounded almost panicked.

"Let's look at the facts," Ron's best human, male friend replied, in an analytical voice. "While Kim has always been very capable, she and Shego havealways been rather well matched. Now, the two of you stumble into an ambush set by four of the worlds most wanted villains. Not only do the two of you survive the encounter, without being overwhelmed, you capture two of the four. Somewhere in the last year or so, you've both become much more capable. I don't think that wrestling and football can account for that."

"Felix, please don't look into the matter any further," Ron pleaded. "There's some things I'm just not supposed to talk about."

"Ah, Felix-kun," Yori suddenly appeared behind Felix, resting her hands on his shoulders and allowing them to slide down just a bit. "While I must admire your concern, and wish to speak to Stoppable-san, I was most disappointed that you did not accompany me on my walk to school this morning. This makes me a, how do you say, unhappy girlfriend?"

"Oh, Yori," it was Felix's turn to be flustered. "Sorry about that."

"We can discuss this in private," she gave her boyfriend an arch look. "But you, Stoppable-san. Are you and Possible-san well?"

Ron gave his three friends a quick overview on his and Kim's conditions. Yori patted his shoulder. "It is good that you are well and that Possible-san will recover," she declared. "As much as my curiosity demands that I try to obtain more details, we all must go to our homerooms soon. In addition, my boyfriend must tell me why he did not ask me to accompany him while he spoke to you."

Felix seemed to wilt under her glare but the bell saved him before he could endure further interrogation. It wasn't until a half-hour later that Ron realized that Yorihad slipped a note into his pocket when she patted his arm. The note informed Ron that he would receivea summons from school tomorrow afternoon, at which time bothhe and Kim would meet with the Yamanouchi representative.

The rest of Ron's school day hadn't gone much better. The fact that Team Possible had been the subject of a major news story, but Kim hadn't made a public appearance, had the rumor mill churning. Ron was hounded by questions between classes and received notes during classes. His exhaustion and concern about Kim's doctor's appointment didn't help his state of mind one bit. Things only got worse after school.

Mr. Barkin, in Coach Barkinmode, decided that he knew exactly what Ron needed; intense physical activity too drive the doubts and concerns from his mind. As a result, the entire football team was subjected to the most intense workout of the entire year. Thus, Ron was now stumbling down the street to Kim's house. At least the various photographers had the decency to stay a respectful distance away. Of course, it might not be decency; the hard workout in the afternoon sun might have forced the reporters back as a sort of survival response.

Ron wasn't ready for surprises when he started wobbling up the sidewalk to his BFGF's house and reached for the knob. The door flew open before he could touch it, revealing a very concerned looking Mr. and Mrs. Possible.

"Is Kim…" Ron couldn't keep the panic out of his voice.

"She's fine, Ronald," Mrs. Possible assured him. "She's in the den and she needs to speak to you. We'll keep the boys out of there while you talk."

The last statement set Ron into a panic. He hurried into the den and dropped his backpack next to the couch. Kim turned towards the sound, revealing a tear-streaked face.

"KP, what's wrong?" Ron asked, catching her hand. She patted the cushion next to her, compelling him to sit down.

"I had my appointment today," she explained in a weak voice. "It turns out that the shrapnel cut into my uterus. This means that I may have trouble conceiving, or carrying children to term." Kim burst into tears again and buried her face in Ron's chest. Ron just held her.

"KP, I didn't know that being able to have kids was so important to you," he confessed, after her sobs had weakened.

"It wasn't," she replied, in a miserable voice. "Until I found out that I might not be able to." She pulled her head back to look at him. "I-I'll understand if you want to break things off with me."

"What! Why would I want to do that?" Ron was completely confused. Suddenly, his eyes flew wide, "Are you breaking up with me because I let this happen to you? KP, I'm sorry…"

"No, I'm not breaking up with you," Kim sniffled. "I-It's just that you're an only child and your 'rents might want grandkids someday."

"I have a little sister, you know," Ron pointed out.

"Yeah, but she's adopted," Kim replied. "What if your 'rents want…genetic grandchildren someday?"

"KP, there's no way I'm going to break up with you over this," Ron declared. "As for my folks, I think that they would skin me alive if I broke up with you over this. As for kids, I've always considered that a 'cross the bridge when we come to it' sort of thing." He paused for a moment, "did I just say what I think I just said?"

"That you're thinking about me when you think about kids?" Kim asked, with a miserable smile on her face. "Join the club."

"You mean you…" Ron stammered.

"Yes," she admitted. "When the doctor told me this afternoon, you were the first person I thought about, even before my 'rents or nana."

"Does this make us…pre-fiancées or something like that?" Ron wondered.

Kim snorted through her tears' remnants. "That's about as good a description as I can think of." She dropped her gaze again, "so you're cool if I can't…you know."

"KP, if we manage to stay together and tie the knot, we'll deal with that issue at that time, okay?" Ron put his arms around her again.

"Okay," she agreed, tucking her head under his chin. The two teens sat like that for several minutes until…

"Ronald," Anne Possible announced, walking into the den, smiling at the two. "I'm going to assume from your posture that Kimmie told you her horrible news and that you told her how silly she was for jumping to the conclusions that she did."

Both teens nodded.

"Now, it's getting late," Anne continued. "And both of you are just about dead on your feet. I've already called your parents, Ron. You're going to stay here for dinner, then you can stay in the guestroom. Now, drop your workout clothes in the washer, they absolutely reek!"

"Sure thing, Mrs. Dr. P," Ron untangled himself from Kim and rushed to follow his instructions. "But they did keep the reporters away while I was walking here."

Kim couldn't help but chuckle at her BFBF as he left to take care of this chore.

"So Kimmie," Anne addressed her daughter. "Didn't I tell you that it wouldn't bother him."

"Yes," Kim confessed. "Are you mad at me?"

"Whatever for?"

"Mom, I know that I'm too young to be thinking about having children, I was sooo out of line by freaking out like I did."

"You weren't out of line at all, Kimmie," Anne assured her daughter. "You've just found out that you might not ever be able to have children. Of course that's upsetting. Besides, let's face facts, Ron is more than just a teenage boyfriend; the two of you have been together for so long and have done so much together that you're thinking well beyond your next date."

"So I'm jumping the gun with him?" Kim asked.

"No, you're not acting on these things, at least I hope you're not," Anne smiled at Kim. "You've got a good boyfriend so when you think about children, you think about Ron. It's really comforting to me that you think of him like this."

"So you think he's going to be your son-in-law," Kim teased her mother, just a little.

"I honestly won't be surprised if he does," Anne said, with a perfectly straight face. "And I won't be upset in the slightest, as long as it's not for another five years, at least."

"Mrs. Dr. P?" Ron's voice came from outside the den, sparing Kim from needing to reply. "Are you done saying whatever it is that you sent me out to start my laundry so that you could say? Or should I find something else to do?"

"That young man is too perceptive by half," Anne muttered, to Kim's amusement. "We're done here Ron," she called. "Would you mind helping me with dinner?"

* * *

Kim was back in the couch, having eaten and done her homework. She was very content, withher back up against her BFBF's chest, his hands resting on her midriff, just above her wound. The long weekend, emotionally draining day and painkillers were conspiring to leave her very drowsy. Wade had halted the missions and, in a fit of boredom, had linked some of the school's security cameras to the Possibles' home entertainment system. While Kim wouldn't be going to school for the rest of the week, she would be able to attend, virtually. Unfortunately, she would be out of cheerleading for several more weeks.

She sighed about that last one, yet again. As much as she hated to admit it, being a cheerleader and a heroine was a large part of her identity. With the two taken away, at least temporarily, she found herself floundering a little bit. She chided herself, mentally. She was still an honor student, the chair of several student committees, and had a number of friends, plus her boyfriend, to keep her occupied. Maybe she would manage to watch a couple of football games from the stands, hanging with her 'rents and friends. Still, she wished she could get back to her physically demanding activities sooner. She should also be thinking about going to bed, but she was just so comfortable….

Ron felt Kim's breathing slow and become deep and regular. He knew that she was asleep. He looked up to see her 'rents watching them, their expressions unreadable. He moved to slide from under her, to perhaps carry her to her room but Mr. Dr. P held up a hand for him to stop.

"Stay there, if you can sleep like that, Ronald," Kim's father told him. "She's had a rough day and as much as it makes me nervous to admit it, she's more relaxed around you."

"Sure thing, Mr. P."

The rocket scientist looked at the teens with a wistful smile while his wife covered them with an afghan. He bent down and kissed Kim on the forehead, patted Ron's shoulder and left the room. Mrs. Doctor P gave Ron a peck on the cheek before leaving. Leaned back on the couch, with his sleeping girlfriend nestled against him, Ron wondered if he could do anything more for her. An idea worked its way through his tired mind. Could it work? He wouldn't know unless he tried. Ron closed his eyes and concentrated on the Mystical Monkey Power.

Kim knew she was dreaming. The dream involved an unlimited Club Banana gift card, a long weekend, and Ron willing to carry all of her purchases. Of course, the blonde boy had also subjected himself to one of her makeovers, so he was looking really fine as he lugged her purchases through the store. In her dream, her Kimmunicator chimed. She knew that she and Ron were going to be called on an easy mission that they would finish quickly, then find themselves stranded for the rest of the day on an isolated, tropical beach. Suddenly, she found herself standing on an infinite, blank plain.

"Don't be scared, KP," she spun to see Ron, dressed in a Gi. "Please don't wake up, either."

"What's going on?" She asked him.

"Remember your meeting with Sensei, when I was in the hospital?"

"Yeah, he said that he could contact you with some form of mental discipline and that we were close enough to share dreams."

"Do you remember what I was doing at the time?" Her BFBF's dream self asked her.

"You were healing yourself."

"I'd like to try something," he informed her. "Since the two of us are so close, I'd like to see if we can work together to increase the rate you heal."

"Can it work?" Kim asked.

"It can't hurt to try," Ron replied. "If it works, you'll heal faster and you'll be hungry tomorrow. Who knows? You might even be able to keep pace with me and Rufus at the breakfast table."

"So what do I do?" Dream Kim asked Dream Ron.

"First, you come up with an analogy for where you're injured, I used a hot air balloon to represent my lung. How do you want to represent your..er…part?"

Dream Kim had to smile at her boyfriend's bashfulness.

While Kim had no way of measuring time in this weird, dream world, it wasn't long before her imagination had conjured a room, very similar to Hanna's nursery back at the Stoppables' house. An exterior wall had a hole torn through it, as if a bowling ball had crashed into the room from outside of the house. The first order of business was to clean up the shattered pieces of sheet rock. When Dream Ron reached down to grab a large chunk, his hand passed right through the debris.

"I think this is working!" He exclaimed.

"How do you figure?" Kim asked, using a whiskbroom to sweep out the crib.

"I can't accelerate your healing," Ron explained. "But I can make it possible for you to do it."

Kim just tilted her head in confusion.

"You see, if we were just sharing a dream, I would be able to touch things in here," Ron passed his hand through the changing table for emphasis. "But, in reality, I'm not in your…never mind." Even in an altered state of consciousness, Ron could blush. "That's how I know that this analogy you've worked up has a toehold in reality. Reality says that I cannot affect things in here, therefore I cannot."

"Get metaphysical much?" Kim groused. She took the whiskbroomto the other furnishings and cleaned them off, as well. Next, she conjured some cleaning supplies and gave the floors and undamaged walls a good cleaning. Then she turned her attention to the hole in the wall.

"Start on the outside and work inside," Ron suggested. The two dream teens walked outside, where Kim started to replace damaged siding. Every time she replaced a section, a miniature version of her would show up with a new section for her to hammer into place. When she was about half done, the miniature Kims quit showing up and she became aware that she was feeling hungry.

"You've burned off most of your energy reserves," Ron explained. "We should stop for tonight. You'll need a good breakfast tomorrow but you've made a good start. I kind of doubt that our 'rents will let me stay over tomorrow, and I don't think that we'll find more time for doing this for the rest of the week, but maybe this weekend..."

"Sounds like a plan," Kim agreed. She led Ron back into the house and to the damaged nursery. Kim contemplated her handiwork. She glanced between the crib and Ron, with a rather wistful expression on her face. Suddenly, she started to giggle.

"What's so funny?" Ron asked. Of course, he was overjoyed to see her happy.

"I was just thinking," Kim chuckled. "In reality, we're snuggled up on the couch, fast asleep, right?"

"You're asleep," Ron corrected. "I'm in deep meditation."

"Whatever, well I'm just wondering what dad would do if he realized where you are, right now, in our dreams." She absolutely convulsed with laughter when Ron's eyes bugged out. The blonde boy gulped and vanished. Without knowing how, Kim willed herself awake.

She woke up on the couch, in Ron's arms. Her BFBF was looking at her with a bit of a 'you got me good' expression that left her stifling giggles. She reached over her head and pulled his head down to her, so that their lips met. After a short, but passionate kiss, they rearranged themselves so that they were on their sides with Ron spooned up against her back. Kim realized that she would be more than ready for breakfast even as she drifted to sleep.

* * *

The next morning, Anne Possible was pleasantly surprised. Her first order of business had been to chance the dressing on her daughter's wound. The wound seemed to be healing nicely, most of the swelling had gone down. It was as if the infection had subsided overnight. Her next surprise was when her petite daughter nearly matched her boyfriend at the breakfast table. After seeing her family and Ron out the door, Anne left for the medical center, marveling at how Kim's attitude had improved overnight.

* * *

"Possible-san, Stoppable-san, it is an honor to meet you in person," the middle-aged Japanese man bowed the teens into his home.

"The honor is ours, Mr. Yoshimuto," Ron responded, bowing even lower to the older man.

"Please do not bow, Possible-san," the elderly man instructed her. "I am aware that your injury has limited your…flexibility. Please come in and make yourselves comfortable." The man gestured to his living room, where Yori and Hirotaka were already seated. Kim and Ron quickly joined their friends. Ron assisted Kim into her chair, then waited until his host sat before sitting.

"As you may know," their host began the meeting. "I am Mr. Yoshimuto. I havea certain…history with the Yamanouchi School. I will not reveal my connection although Sensei has honored me by trusting my discretion. I shall reveal certain facts to Mr. Stoppable and Miss Possible. Yori-chan and Hirotaka-chan shall provide certain, additional details."

"First, Miss Possible, Mr. Stoppable tells me that you observed him using a weapon known as the Lotus Blade," the older man looked intently at Kim.

"If you're talking about the sword that turned into a throwing axe, yes I did." Kim answered.

"The Lotus Blade follows the orders of its master," he explained to her. "And it is capable of changing shape. Shortly after Fisk's escape from his confinement, Sensei felt it wise to have Stoppable-san carry the weapon in secret. During your confrontation in Wyoming, Stoppable-san was defeating Fisk on his own, so he did not deem it necessary to make use of the blade. Thus, it stayed hidden until Fisk usurped the Mystical Monkey Power. For those few minutes, the blade had no master."

"Where is it now?" Kim asked.

"Right here," Ron answered, producing his harmonica. "I've been wearing it as my wrist grapple during missions."

Kim was clearly having trouble digesting this fact. "It changes form?" She asked.

At Mr. Yoshimuto's nod, Ron concentrated on his harmonica and it morphed into the Lotus Blade's natural form. He concentrated again and it turned into a set of hedge clippers. He then had the blade assume the shape of his wrist grapple before returning it to its harmonica form.

"The Lotus Blade is most versatile," Yori informed Kim. "While history records that Tomashiru carved Yamanouchi from the mountain using the blade, it does not state that it was in the form of a sword while he did so. I find it most likely that it was at times a pick, a hammer and a shovel."

"It wasn't very happy while we were working on my room," Ron confirmed.

"Why is this?" Hirotaka asked.

"I was using an ordinary claw hammer," Ron informed him. "The blade knew this and I got the impression that it wanted me to form it into one and make use of it. It does not like being passed over when there's work to be done."

"We are starting to stray from our topic of discussion," Mr. Yoshimuto pointed out. "The fact is, Miss Possible, that Stoppable-sanis the master of the blade. He has kept it close to him, prepared to defend himself if Fisk chose to attack him. I ask bothof you to not make frivolous use of the blade. While it belongs with Stoppable-san, Sensei would prefer that it remain secret unless in a case where your life is at risk."

"Okay, I can understand this," Kim allowed. "Now, what else are you willing to reveal."

"What questions do you have to ask?" The old man countered.

"Here's one, what are Yori and Hirotaka doing here?" Ron jumped in. "The last time, Yoriwas here to help guard me against Monty, but since neither is living with me, that can't be it. I don't buy the story of this being some sort of exchange program, either."

Mr. Yoshimuto shared a long look with the two Japanese teens before addressing Kim and Ron.

"Yori-san and Hirotaka-san havea mission with more than one goal," he explained. "Their most important task is to assure that Yamanouchi's secrets remain secure. To this end, they seek to enhance the belief that your athletics, cheerleading, training and teamwork have given you your success. They seek to divert any questions about your time in Japan or the presence of the Mystical Monkey Power."

"Like you distracting Felix yesterday morning," Ron asked Yori, with a decided edge to his voice.

"That was one of my goals," Yori confessed, confused by Ron's glare.

"Their other goal, and the point of this meeting, was to insure Hanna's proper upbringing," Mr. Yoshimuto stated.

"What!?" Ron demanded. "What does Hanna have to do with all of this?"

"Senseihas determined that the Mystical Monkey Power may manifest through Hanna very powerfully when she becomes an adult," the elderly man informed Ron. "He does not confide how he has determined this, to me. However, he feels that Hanna will become even more fully attuned withthe power if she is raised in a household that has caused another to align himself withthe power. In addition, the close proximity with one who is aligned shall also enhance her own attunement."

"Hanna has access to the MMP?" Kim asked.

"Access might not be accurate, Possible-san," Yoriinterrupted. "Rather, she is very sensitive to the power at this time."

"How can you tell?" Kim wondered.

"Did you not notice that Hanna quickly warmed to Ron-san, a master of the Mystical Monkey Power?" Yoricountered. "How she became agitated when he was not close by, at least until a couple of weeks had passed and she became accustomed to her adoptive parents?"

"The Mystical Monkey Power did that?" Ron asked.

"Not so much the Mystical Monkey Power, as much as her being drawn to one accepted by it," Mr. Yoshimuto corrected. "Senseiknows that your enemies found some way of temporarily seizing this power and sent me to be with Hanna. During the time that you did not have the power, Hanna was terrified."

"So Master Sensei arranged for Hanna to become available when my parents wanted to adopt a child?" Ron asked. Mr. Yoshimuto nodded, wondering at the blonde boy's angry expression.

"How did he arrange for this?" Ron demanded.

"I do not understand the question," Mr. Yoshimuto admitted. "And I find your tone most insolent, young man."

"Was Hanna taken from her parents?" Ron snarled.

"She is an orphan," Hirotaka assured him.

"Are you sure of this?" Ron turned on her. "It seems just a little bit too convenient that my parents want to adopt a child at about the time that this particular child becomes orphaned."

"Are you questioning Sensei's honesty?" Yori's question was more of a demand.

"Yes I am!" Four sets of eyes were wide and locked on Ron.

"How dare you?" Yori hissed.

"How do _I_ dare?" Ron challenged her. "I'm not the one who's pretending to be fond of Felix so that I can distract him!"

"I am honestly fond of Felix-Kun!" Yori protested. "I also follow my master's directions. I am not motivated by only my own, selfish desires!"

"And what happens if Sensei decides that you should get close to someone else? Would you drop Felix?" Ron wasn't backing down.

"_Hai_, I would do so," Yoriadmitted, dropping her gaze. "But with great reluctance. I have given my heart to Felix-kun, but the needs of Yamanouchioverride my own desires." Suddenly, the Japanese girl brought her eyes up again, this time with defiance in them. "Do you understand this, Stoppable-san? Do you understand repressing your own wants for the common good? You have always assisted Possible-san in her endeavors to help people, but have you ever truly sacrificed your own happiness to do so?"

"I'll admit that you have a point," Ron conceded. "You can heap scorn on me all you want, because this isn't about me. I'm concerned about the sacrifices made by those who don't know they're making one."

"I do not understand," Yori confessed.

"What about my parents?" There were tears in Ron's eyes as he asked the question. "What if Senseidecides that we aren't doing a good enough job aligning Hanna with the MMP?"

"He would probably arrange for Hanna to be removed from your home," Hirotaka chimed in. "While this may be sad for you, it is for the common good."

"I said that this isn't about me!" Ron roared at the other boy. "What about my parents? They've given their hearts to that little girl. They don't know that this is for the common good! All that they will know is that somehow, they weren't good enough! How can there be noble sacrifice when they don't even know what they're involved in?"

"And what about Felix?" Ron turned to Yori while Hirotaka was rendered speechless. "If Senseidecides that you need to break things off with him, what happens to him? I know that we're teenagers, but my buddy has really fallen for you, big time! How can he willingly sacrifice his desires for the common good when he doesn't even know what's going on? All he will know is that he wasn't good enough for his dream girl; that she found someone better. Trust me, I know the feeling."

Unnoticed, Kim cringed.

"I'll admit to being selfish," Ron continued, in a much more sedate voice. "But how can you claim some sort of moral superiority, claim to be willing to deny your desires, when this includes affecting so many others who don't even know the good they're supposed to be achieving? Bottom line up front, I just don't want to see my 'rents or my friends hurt without knowing why they're being hurt."

"This is an understandable concern, Stoppable-san," Mr. Yoshimutoassured Ron. "In fact, I look forward to having morality debates with you at a later date. However, we are running far afield here. There are certain secrets, which you may surrender to Global Justice, in order to reduce their speculation. Now, here is what Yamanouchi is willing for this organization to learn."

The small group spoke for a little less than an hour. Mr. Yoshimuto was adamant that they not let either Kim's or Ron's parents know about the true nature of Yamanouchi. Ron wasn't shy about letting them know that while he would abide by their wishes, he wasn't happy about it. There were hard glares between Ron and Yori as the teens left the Yoshimuto residence.

Kim sighed as Ron drove her back to her house, before he went back to school. A few short months ago, a rift between Ron and Yori would have made her happy. Now, she realized that nothing good could come out of this tense sitch.

"_I guess that means I'm becoming more mature_," she thought. "_Ron's right, sometimes maturity really tanks!" _

_

* * *

_

A/N

Again, my fondest thanks to everyone who has taken the time to read this story. I'm even more appreciative of all of you who have left comments, either via review or a PM.

Again, fond thanks to Joe Stoppinghem for Beta reading.

Finally, I would like to dedicate this chapter to my dear wife. She enjoys writing 'Supernatural' Fanfics over in the TV Shows section of FanFiction, under the name Ciya.

Ciya, tomorrow, the 25th of August, marks our 18th wedding anniversary. Thanks for sticking with me for 18 years, thanks for making me a father.

To everyone else, until my next update, best wishes,

daccu65


	29. Seasons Change

Chapter 29: Seasons Change

The final buzzer sounded at the Pinnacle Village stadium, sending the Middleton backers swarming onto the field to congratulate their team and the Southeast High supporters trudging out to console theirs. The Colorado High School Athletic Association had decided to handle the football playoffs a little differently this year. Instead of having an elimination playoff championship, like they had for years, they had decided to play bowl games at Colorado's largest stadiums, much like the NCAA Division 1 football program did. The result was a mixed blessing.

On the plus side, the football season was now over. The teams had played their final games, against teams that they would not have ordinarily played. College scouts had fanned out to watch selected players in the big games, so the boys who had dreams of playing at the next level had had a chance to showcase themselves.

On the down side, there was no clear-cut champion in each division. Of course, maybe that was a plus: The coaches and sportswriters would vote for the number one team, and the disappointed teams would try to schedule the champions for next year's games. Perhaps the vagueness made for long lasting competition. Of course, Kim wasn't thinking about this as she scampered down from the stands. She was more concerned with running onto the field and congratulating number 7.

She had almost fully healed up from her wounding, several weeks ago. She was sure that she would have healed faster if she and Ron could have scheduled more 'tandem nap time,' but such moments were rare. While her father seemed to be fully approving of her relationship with her boyfriend, such contacts weren't to become normal. She had made honest attempts to perform the 'analogical healing' on her own, with no success. While Ron didn't accelerate her healing, per se, he made it possible for her to do so. Be that as it may, the few occasions that they had managed the feat had made it possible, now, for her to scamper down the bleachers with no discomfort, even though her 'woman's doctor' said that she could still have problems conceiving, when she got to that point. As Ron had said, it would be a 'bridge to cross when they got to it' sort of thing. For now, she would be starting back on the squad on Monday and she had already started light sparring sessions.

This memory brought a momentary frown to her face. While Yori and Hirotaka still showed up at Ron's house every morning, for a workout, Ron wasn't happy with the Yamanouchi sitch. While he was polite, attentive, and hard working during the training sessions, he avoided the two Japanese teens whenever he could. Holding a grudge was not in Ron's character so Kim was surprised that he was doing so, and doing so very well. What really bothered Kim about the sitch was that, since Yori and Felix continued to spend time together, it was putting a strain on Ron's friendship with Felix. Kim was considering enlisting Felix, Yori and Hirotaka and forcing her BFBF to sit down and confront everyone, just to resolve the sitch one way or another.

Kim reached the foot of the bleachers and ran across the track and onto the field. She soon had a convoy of Middleton cheerleaders, and the pep puppies, around her. While she hadn't been working out with the squad, she still attended the workouts. As a result, she had stayed close to most of the girls (there was one obvious, and glaring, exception) and they took delight in convoying her to her BFBF after every game. Soon, they had pushed their way through the crowd to locate Ron, with his helmet under one arm and Oscar at his side, shaking hands and sharing some small talk with the Southeast High secondary. Kim and Cindy broke out of the pack and closed with their respective boyfriends. Kim simply jumped into Ron's arms (or one arm, he was still holding his helmet) and gave him a big kiss. Ron simply held her for several, wonderful seconds before returning her to the ground. Two weeks ago, that move would have been painful for her, now it was enjoyable. She smiled at her BFBF; she was getting used to being able to watch him play, rather than executing routines.

It was too loud on the field for them to talk and they knew that they would be speaking later anyway. Ron looked up and caught sight of his parents, with Yori and Hanna, closing in on them. Kim quickly grabbed Ron's helmet so that he could take his little sister, with both hands, from Yori. Kim had to smile about that. Various tabloid reporters had gone nuts when Ron started to go a little crazy over Hanna, in public.

The first round of rumors insisted that Hanna was Ron and Kim's daughter. Then somebody in that mindless bunch found two brain cells to rub together and realized that Hanna was clearly Asian. Next, one of them realized that Yori was fairly close to the teen couple, and the rumors started that Hanna was Ron and Yori's child. These rumors were harder to put down. In fact, several websites, and tabloids, still reported this on occasion. Kim had no doubt that several of the pictures being taken at this very moment would eventually show up on scandal-rags, '_confirming_' the fact that Hanna was Ron's daughter.

When it came to Kim and Ron, this rumor seemed to be fighting the rumor that there had been no confrontation in Wyoming and that Team Possible had gone to that state to obtain an abortion for Kim. _These_rumors insisted that Kim hadn't been wounded by shrapnel, but by a sleazy, back-alley doctor. It didn't matter that the Belizean Foreign Ministry had confirmed that DNAmy had been running a secret lab in its country. It didn't matter that the emergency room doctor had produced the shrapnel he had removed. It didn't matter that Dr. Director had confirmed what had happened, more than once. It didn't matter that Aviarius and Dementor were in custody and the pan dimensional vortex inducer had been recovered. A small group of media nut cases, led by Rita Richards, insisted that Kim had suffered a botched abortion.

Still, most people seemed to accept the overwhelming evidence to the contrary, and that included Global Justice. Despite Ron's current animosity towards the Yamanouchi School, he had submitted himself to two more 'preparatory' meetings with Mr. Yoshimuto. Therefore, he had been prepared when Global Justice called them in for a meeting the weekend after Kim had been wounded. Ron had inadvertently put the GJ people off their game at the beginning, starting during the elevator ride (yes, GJ had such things and Kim's wounded state was enough to put them on one) to the conference room.

"You know Stoppable," Agent Du had told the blonde teen on the elevator. "There's no escape for you this time. There won't be any distractions or medical emergencies. Despite the fact that you're an amateur, you're going to go through a complete, professional debriefing."

"Good luck, Du," Ron had replied. "I've had plenty of them, from the bullies in D hall and nobody's going to debrief me again, without a fight. Besides, I'm a boxers man."

Kim had been forced to hide her face in her palm while Du had struggled to come up with a proper response. Things hadn't gotten much better for Global Justice's top agent after that. At first, everything went well for Global Justice. Kim and Ron had admitted that Yamanouchi was a martial arts training facility. Dr. Director had then moved the debriefing to a nearby gym facility, where Ron proceeded to overwhelm Du, confirming that he had received some intense training.

Upon returning to the conference room, Dr. Director had requested all information that the teens were authorized to share. She hadn't seemed shocked when Kim and Ron had discussed the Mystical Monkey Power. Ron revealed that he had access to the power and that it enhanced his physical capabilities and his Tai Shen Pek Kwar skills. He did not reveal his influence over simians, his ability to communicate with Sensei, his healing abilities or the Lotus Blade. Team Possible also did not discuss the fact that Yamanouchi maintained a covert network of graduates and supporters.

"I don't think you're being honest with us," Du had declared, still miffed about the humiliating defeats that the blonde, amateur sidekick and inflicted upon him. "What else does this so-called power do for you?"

"Well," Ron had mused. "If you look at the footage from our mission in Rochester, you'll see me swinging from the rafters. I believe that the MMP has enhanced my ability to brachiate."

"That's enough of that, Stoppable!" Du had snapped at him.

"What?" Ron had been clearly confused.

"That term," Du had glared at the blonde teen. "I don't care how special you think you are but you will not use terms like that in a lady's presence."

"Brachiate?" Ron had looked amused at Du's outraged glare. "The act of swinging by your hands without your feet touching the ground? I'll admit that it's not exactly tearoom grammar but I don't see it as being disrespectful."

"Oh," Du had looked chagrined while Dr. Director hid her face in her palm. "Is that what it means?"

"Yes," Ron had informed him. "What did you think it meant?"

"Never mind," Du had answered, brusquely.

"Well, if you got that upset you must have thought it meant _something_," Ron hadn't been about to let up.

"Let it drop, Stoppable!"

"Enough, Du," Betty Director had snapped, shaking her head. "Kim, Ron, you've been most helpful. We'll have additional questions, dealing with your encounter rather than your capabilities, at later dates. We can deal with these via your usual communications channels rather than bringing you down here. By the way, Mr. Stoppable, you've been most accurate in your assessment on the amount of money we could save by using elevators for all of our vertical transportation, but we have our reasons."

An assistant had appeared, leading the teens back to the elevator while Dr. Director turned to Du with a very stern expression on her face. While GJ had asked a few questions since then, they had concentrated on Shego's actions with Monty as opposed to the teens' abilities.

Kim's attention snapped back to the here and now when Barkin's voice thundered for his team to return to the sidelines. Kim frowned a little when Ron returned Hanna to his mother, rather than to Yori. She reminded herself that she definitely needed to set them down and have them make some form of peace.

Soon, the teams were lined up on the sidelines while Coach Barkin accepted the Pinnacle Trophy on behalf of the Maddogs. Minutes later, the officials declared Ron to be the game's most valuable player. Blushing and grinning, Ron trotted out to accept the trophy. He suddenly had a moment of inspiration, and asked the entire offense to come out and pose with him and the trophy. After several minutes of celebration, with the Middleton Band playing their fight song, Barkin bellowed for his team to hit the showers.

"See you tomorrow?" Kim asked her BFBF.

"Can't wait for then," Ron assured her, sharing one last kiss before entrusting her with his trophy and jogging off with the rest of the team. When the team's bus pulled into town later that night, the football season would officially be over.

* * *

Oh, how right Mr. Loward had been! DNAmy reflected upon their conversation and remembered a comic book character; a superhero who had based his persona upon flying mammals. That character's allure had been the fact that he wasn't super-powered, that he had trained himself and built his equipment to allow himself to join the ranks of those gifted with superhuman abilities. DNAmy would go one better, starting tonight.

DNAmy wouldn't just train herself and fabricate equipment; she would completely recreate her own body! So that green-skinned hussy considered her dumpy? Amy would show her! Mr. Loward had removed the kid gloves. While her lab in Belize had been state-of-the-art, this facility went even beyond that! Now, she had supercomputers, a massive staff, and research files that would make a university research center envious. Amy was now ready!

"You understand your instructions?" She asked her assistant, who had a PHD in genetics.

"Completely," the man assured her. "The process is almost completely automated. I'll just be monitoring the progress and making minor adjustments."

Amy nodded. She had put in a stunning amount of work in the last few weeks, with the majority of her difficulties being finding ways of splicing the genes of so many different creatures. Human, gigantopithicus, electric eel, and so many others had gone into her masterpiece. Now, she would prove her loyalty and competence by undergoing her procedure herself.

With her assistant's…assistance, she inserted the needles into her own flesh and rested upon the webbed surface. She watched as the robotic arm lifter her and placed her in the vat. Her perceptions started to distort, and her mind grew sluggish as the medicines started to affect the foreign genes in her tissues, causing her body to restructure itself. She drifted off with pleasant dreams of what she would be, when she woke up, dancing through her mind.

* * *

"Monty, I've got to go look into this job," Shego informed the former Monkeyfist. He simply nodded, once. He hadn't done much more than that for the last several weeks.

"Are you going to be okay while I'm gone?" She prompted. "I'll be gone for a few days, maybe a week." He only answer was a shrug.

He had been like this ever since they had arrived at this hidden refuge. He knew her and would answer questions and follow instructions. If she asked him to make the bed, heat up a can of soup, or take a shower, he would do so. Yet, he wouldn't eat, bathe, or change his clothing without instructions. He had absolutely no drive to do anything. If she wasn't here for that length of time…

Well, she had no idea how to snap him out of his depression. Maybe it had come time to force him to do something to maintain himself. On a couple of occasions she had tried to entice him into her bed to…but he hadn't shown any interest. Her own ego hadn't taken that reaction well, at all. Still, she was hoping that somehow, he would come back.

"Monty, come here and listen," Shego spent several minutes going over the haven's, and Monty's, upkeep while she would be gone. She hated to leave him but they needed the money and it gave her a chance to spring Drakken. She simply couldn't ignore this opportunity.

"_Be well_," she thought as she jumped into one of the SUVs and drove off. "_Please be waiting for me when I get back."_

Montgomery Fisk watched Shego drive off, idly wondering if he would still be alive when she returned. Since his horrible experience back in Wyoming, he really wondered if she would be better off if he chose to end his existence. He was truly grateful that she continued to care for him but he didn't understand the point. He had been so wrong about the Mystical Monkey Power, and about monkeys. They were horrible, terrifying creatures and the MMP was a horrible, terrifying influence. At least here, in these desert mountains, there were none of the horrid creatures.

Sometime after Shego left, (Monty couldn't even stir himself to keep track of the time), he took the elevator to the uppermost level, an observation post. He opened the hatch and walked out onto the high, arid, moonlit mountains. Somewhere, deep in his mind, he knew that he would either find the will to keep living or he would never return to the lair. If he were to simply keep walking away from the only shelter he knew, the Sahara would make short work of him come sunup.

He hadn't walked for very far when he slipped under an overhang and stopped to rest. The full moon peeked out from some clouds and shone on the back wall. Seeing some odd colors and shapes, Fisk edged to the back and looked closer. He saw some primitive cave wall paintings depicting savannah creatures. He recognized zebra, giraffe, and some form of bison. He recalled that the Sahara had not always been a desert. Looking down, he noticed odd rocks. Reaching down, he unearthed a stone cutting edge.

Amazing! Here, in this desolate, remote location he had managed to stumble across stone-age artifacts from when the Sahara had been a fertile savannah! He **had**to excavate this site, to unearth and catalog the artifacts. He had to obtain a camera, so that he could record the artwork. He remembered Shego showing him the haven's communications room, surely he could log in to some archaeological sites and exchange information. Although he couldn't divulge the exact location, this find could prove to be invaluable to understanding life here before the desert dominated the land!

Montgomery Fisk, world-renowned archaeologist, absolutely flew back to the haven, formulating lists of equipment he would need for his task.

* * *

"So, pumped about getting back to training with the squad?" Ron asked Kim, as they walked through Middleton Park.

"Yeah, it's been awhile, so I'm actually kind of nervous," the redhead kicked a pile of fallen leaves, creating a momentary shower of gold.

"You'll be fine," Ron assured her. "Just remember to not overdo things."

"If I strain my muscles, will you give me a full-body massage?" She almost purred the question.

"Strained muscles or not, you just have to ask," Ron replied, stretching his collar. Kim chuckled and caught his arm, enjoying the crisp, cool air and the company.

"So," she asked after a comfortable time of just walking through the park. "What's this big ceremony that you and Oscar are going be putting on this evening?"

"His idea, really," Ron confessed. "But it seemed appropriate at the time."

"That's no answer," Kim gave Ron's arm a slight punch.

"It's a surprise," Ron told her.

"Meanie," she grumped at him, but her smile belied her choice of words.

"Hey, all I'll say is that it's just going to be a couple of friends, witnessing a change of seasons, so to speak."

"Who all's invited?" Kim asked.

"Well, the plan is just for you, me, Oscar and Cindy," Ron answered. "But if anyone else happens to be there, that's fine, too."

"Why didn't you invite Felix?" Kim asked. "Is it because he would want to bring Yori along?"

"Yeah," Ron hung his head. "I know that we still work out with her and Hirotaka, but I just don't like being around them, y'know?"

"Ron, this is going to sound ferociously wrong coming from me, but I wish you'd make some kind of peace with at least her," Kim pleaded. "It's starting to affect your friendship with Felix."

"I don't know, KP. I signed up for this life when I started going with you on your missions. While I didn't realize what I was getting into, I sort of understood and accepted the fact that I was going to be hurt and manipulated. I can accept this happening to me. The problem I have is that Felix and my 'rents didn't sign up for this life, they don't know the…depth…to which Yamanouchi is willing to go to achieve its goals."

"Don't you trust Sensei?" Kim asked.

"I trust Sensei to do what's right for Yamanouchi," Ron answered. "And ninety-eight percent of the time, what's right by Yamanouchi is going to be what's right for everybody. It's the times that what's right by Yamanouchi isn't what's right for everybody else that bothers me."

"Like Hanna?" Kim prompted.

"Exactly," Ron said, looking around to make sure that they were alone. "My 'rents really love that little girl and the thought that Sensei might take her away if I don't…attune her to the MMP really bothers me, especially since he never told me what I was supposed to do."

"Have you tried to talk to him about this?"

"No, the whole idea that he might have used me to manipulate my 'rents really bothers me. I guess that I'm afraid that my worries will prove true and I don't want that. The Felix and Yori sitch really bothers me, as well."

"Nobody likes to see a friend hurt," Kim assured him. "But I think that if Yori breaks things off with Felix, she'll do it as kindly as she can."

"Yeah, I know, a brainy, inquisitive and angry ex-boyfriend would be a bad thing for a secretive school."

"No, Ron," Kim protested. "I mean that I think that Yori would break it off kindly because she really cares about him."

"I know, KP, but I can't be sure about it," Ron grumbled. "And that makes the whole sitch seem sort of…wrong somehow."

"How do you mean?" Kim pushed him.

"Okay, KP, I don't want to open old wounds," Ron kept his face down, not meeting her eyes. "But here goes. I'm not, and wasn't, as clueless as everyone thinks I am. I kind of suspected that Yori might have been…interested in me when I visited Yamanouchi during our junior year. I also suspected that Tara might have been interested in me back when we were sophomores. But, I had such a low self-esteem that I couldn't actually believe it, in either case. So I didn't do anything about it, since I didn't want them to quit being nice to me, in case I was mistaken."

"With Yori, it was more…profound that with Tara," Ron continued, looking at Kim with a miserable expression. "When I first met her, I was about as down as I'd ever been in my life. The fact that a smart, confident and pretty girl could be interested in me really boosted my ego. It made me think that if she thought I was worth something, maybe I really was worth something. If it turns out that she was only showing interest in me because Sensei wanted her to, it will make the whole sitch seem sort of…tainted."

Kim couldn't bring herself to meet her BFBF's eyes. Not only had that time been a very dark time for Ron; she had learned that she had contributed to his feelings of inadequacy.

"Hey, KP, no harshing on yourself," she felt Ron's hand hook under her chin and lift her face up. "We're past all that, right? The only reason I'm bringing it up now is so that I can tell you how concerned I am about the Felix sitch."

"Right," Kim nodded. "Go on."

"Anyway, I'm Felix's best friend and he's never had a girlfriend before Yori," Ron continued. "Sure, he's been interested but he's always been a little shy about actually going up and asking a girl out."

"Who has he been interested in?" Kim interrupted.

"Male best friend privilege," Ron claimed. "The code of male-hood prohibits me from speaking this to any female."

"C'mon Ron, this is some prime gossip," Kim protested. "If I knew who the shoe-in for the class valedictorian was interested in, it would blow even Monique away!"

"KP, please, you don't tell me what you and Monique talk about," Ron pleaded. "And believe me, I'm really grateful for that."

"Okay, fine," Kim conceded. "At least I know that if you won't repeat your conversations with Felix to me, the secrets I share with you are safe, as well. Now, Felix has never had a girlfriend and now he's dating Yori."

"Right," Ron got back on track. "So here's my best friend." Kim glared at him. "Er, my best male friend." Rufus popped out of Ron's pocked and chittered, angrily. "Okay, fine, my best human, male friend. Anyway, he and Yori start dating and he's happier than I've ever known him to be. If he finds out that Yori was only showing interest in him in order to further Yamanouchi's ends, it would be terrible."

"I don't really think that's the case," Kim assured him. "I think that Yori's honestly crushing on him, if not in love with him. Now, let's throw another sitch at you. His best friend is suspicious of his girlfriend's motivations and starts avoiding her. This means that he's forced to choose between his girlfriend and his best friend. Now, where does that leave you if she doesn't have ulterior motives?"

"Being a lousy friend," Ron admitted, slumping his head down.

"That's why you need to talk to her," Kim told him. This time she lifted his chin up. "Even if she doesn't tell you the whole truth, even if she's still working as a Yamanouchi agent, at least you will have tried. That's all any friend can ask."

"Thanks, KP."

"No big," Kim shrugged. "Now, what's this ceremony that you and Oscar have planned?"

"That's another male secret," Ron informed her. "All I'll say is that you and Cindy have to bring your appetites."

"Oh! Will this ceremony involve Chez Ronald?"

"I'm not saying! I'm not saying!"

"Spoilsport!"

Despite her best efforts, Kim couldn't pry any more information out of Ron. She was 'forced' to enjoy a quiet day with her BFBF, generally just wandering around the town and the mall. Ron found a nice hoodie for Kim, as a get-well present. As the afternoon progressed, Ron suggested that they hop on his bike for a short ride. Kim began to get suspicious when Ron stopped at Bueno Nacho. Inside, Kim found Oscar, Cindy, most of the returning wrestlers, and assorted guests. Ned was putting the final touches on a nice, Tex-Mex buffet.

The teens enjoyed their meal, which included sweet desserts. As everyone was finishing up, Oscar, as a returning captain, stood and called for everyone's attention.

"Fellow sweat-mongrels and invited guests," he declared. "We are gathered here to bear witness to a change of seasons. Football season is over."

"Long lasted football season," Ron and the rest of the wrestlers, who had also played football, intoned. Most of the invited guests palmed their faces.

"But with the end of this fine season, one of the most successful in school history, a new season begins. Ladies, gentlemen, and fellow sub-humans, we are about to embark upon our yearly ordeal. At the conclusion of this meal, the starvation shall begin. Say goodbye to the sugar and other sweets, my friends. I declare wrestling season to be upon us."

The gathered teens applauded the speech then savored their desserts.

Across the State of Colorado and most of the rest of the country, groups of teenaged boys prepared for the coming athletic season. Many looked into their refrigerators and pantries, offering sad farewells. Soon these healthy, young men would develop an almost obsessive infatuation with their weight. As the cold winds of winter descended upon the land, these boys would gather to work out in rooms warmed only by their body heat and humidified by their own sweat. They would drive themselves to exhaustion, day after day. Old friendships and rivalries, not mutually exclusive states, would be renewed. It was time for the high school wrestling season to begin.

It was time to go back to the mat.

* * *

_A/N:_

_Thanks for being patient on this endeavour of mine. I've passed a sort of personal milestone. This story has grown beyond my first multi-chapter story, and still apears to be going strong. I really appreciate the reviews and comments that it has generated._

_On another note, I'm posting this chapter on the 31st of August. This Wednesday, September 3rd, will be my 43rd birthday. Also, happy aniversary to Sentinel 103._

_Until my next update, best wishes, _

_daccu65_


	30. Life Goes On

Chapter 30: Life Goes On

Shego killed the SUV's headlights and drove the last several kilometers using her night vision goggles. While she was fairly sure that nobody would even notice the vehicle in this remote, unpopulated region, safe havens were getting rare and she had no intention of compromising this one. Of course, her agitation only increased as she got closer to the lair.

Shego triggered the vehicle bay door, drove inside and closed the door behind her, effectively hiding the vehicle bay. She wanted to go find Monty but she was a professional; her first order of business was to recharge the vehicles fuel tanks. In her situation, she had to be ready to flee at a moment's notice. She gave the vehicle a once-over while the tanks refilled. Finally, she made her way to the lair's living quarters.

Monty wasn't in the sleeping quarters or the kitchen. Feeling something close to panic, Shego sprinted throughout the lair, no sign of Monty. Finally, the mercenary flopped down on a chair in the control center and called up the security system's history on the mainframe. She quickly punched in the time and date that she had left, then started the security camera footage on fast forward.

She saw Monty, shambling aimlessly, wandering out of the Observation Post's hatch.

Shego blindly stabbed her finger at the stop button, halting the playback. To her surprise, tears started to flow from her eyes. Monty had left the haven for the desert! She tried to rationalize his actions, maybe he had decided that there was nothing left for him and had decided to end things on his own terms. Half blind, she got up and wandered to the living quarters. She noticed that the beds were made, the rooms were tidy, and all of the dishes were clean. Apparently, the man had decided to not leave a mess behind him. Shego looked at a clock; it would be sunup in a couple of hours. At that time, she would go out and try to find what was left of him. At the very least, she owed him a decent burial.

Shego busied herself with making plans for her upcoming caper. She had failed Monty, somehow, but she wouldn't fail Dr. D. As was usual when she was plotting an operation, she quickly lost track of time. By the time she looked up at the clock again, she realized that the sun had been up for a half-hour. With a grim expression, she gathered a canteen and a large plastic tarp, and made her way to the observation post. She opened the hatch and found herself staring face to face with…

MONTY!?

Tarp and canteen fell to the floor, completely forgotten as Shego collapsed into Fisk's arms.

* * *

Kim tried to ignore the pain, but it was of no use. It consumed every fiber of her being.

"You knew better than to do this," the taunting voice came from somewhere above and behind her. Sprawled on her belly, in agony, she couldn't move as a pair of strong hands descended onto her body.

"Out of practice, out of shape, you knew better than to even try," the voice continued. "You could have sat this one out, but no! You're Kim Possible, you couldn't turn down the challenge! Now you're paying the price."

"State the obvious much?" She snarled, as Ron tried to massage the soreness out of her shoulders. He had practically carried her home after the 'special Friday workout' session Mrs. Johnson had put the cheerleaders through. Kim had already been sore enough after her first week back on the squad but today had been a brutal conclusion to a rough week. Even the tweebs were taking pity on her!

"Is Kim gonna…" Tim began.

"Be okay?" Jim finished.

"I've never been in so much pain in my entire life," Kim grumbled.

"Wait until tomorrow," Ron quipped.

"Very funny…ieooowww," her moan of combined pain and relief, as Ron started to work on her hamstring, interrupted her conversation. She buried her head in a couch cushion and surrendered herself to Ron's ministrations.

"I take it that our normal, Friday night dating activity is out of the question tonight?" Ron asked, continuing to work on her tense muscles.

"You mean dinner, movies and maybe…(gasp)…dancing?" Her muffled voice emerged from the cushion. "Please don't utter such obscenities in front of the tweebs."

"Obscenity?" The younger boys asked in unison.

"Dancing," Kim explained. "Right now, any suggestion that involves anything other than just vegging here is the most vile blaspheme imaginable."

"Ohhh!" Jim spoke up, starting to see a possibility.

"Does that mean you won't be able to chase us if we have a little fun?" Tim concluded.

"Tweebs…" she snarled. "You'll be hurting worse than me when I'm able to move again…sometime next year…Ohhhh!" Ron had started working on her other hamstring.

"C'mon guys," the blonde boy tried to reason with them. "She's really, really hurting right now."

"That's okay, we'll behave, kinda," Tim assured him.

"Having her chase us was half the fun, anyway," Jim concluded.

Kim chuckled through the pain as her brothers scurried out of the den, leaving her alone with her BFBF.

"You're really good at dealing with them, you know?" She murmured.

"Well, I am the ultimate monkey master," Ron reminded her, after confirming that they were alone in the den. "They're not that much different."

Kim snorted, enjoying Ron's continued efforts. With the exception of the tweebs, who were working on some new project and would spend most of their time in the garage, she was alone in the house with Ron. Her parents were at a recognition banquet, put on by the Medical Center, and wouldn't be home until around midnight. For a few minutes, she wondered if Ron's massage abilities were a Yamanouchi skill, an MMP skill, or just something he had picked up.

"So, you seem to be getting along better with Yori and Hirotaka," she noted, making conversation while Ron continued to work on her sore muscles.

"Yeah, I spoke with them and had a…conversation with Sensei. I think that Sensei communicated with them and Mr. Yoshimuto, as well. The way Sensei explained things, this conflict is kind of unavoidable because of our different perspectives."

"Be vague much?"

"Sorry, KP. Sensei explained that for Yori, Hirotaka, and Mr. Yoshimuto, loyalty to Yamanouchi is the most important virtue. Yamanouchi depends upon many people just like them, each contributing that little bit to the greater good. If they started to stop and question the…morality of their actions, Yamanouchi wouldn't be able to accomplish anything."

"With me, a sense of…justice…is the most important virtue," Ron continued. "Since I'm kind of a free agent, Yamanouchi will take the time to enlist my help for certain goals, rather than expect my immediate obedience. On the other hand, my…influence over monkeys means that I have to make sure that I'm not abusing other's trust in me or I might turn out like Monty. That's why Sensei challenged me to all of those morality debates back in Japan."

"Okay, that almost makes sense," Kim conceded. "Did you discuss Hanna and Felix."

"Yep," Ron was clearly much happier about these sitches. "Sensei assured me that he will make no effort to take Hanna away. He wants her to have a childhood as similar to mine, as possible."

"And Felix?" Kim prompted.

"Yori assures me that she really has it bad for him," Ron smiled. "She won't break things off unless it's by mutual consent, or Sensei specifically tells her to do so. According to her, Sensei seems rather pleased with her boyfriend."

"So you and Felix are good again?"

"We were never really bad, KP, but yeah, the tension is gone."

"It's just good to see you hanging with him at school again," Kim admitted, closing her eyes as he started to work her lower back.

"By the way," he asked. "What ever came out of your efforts to hook up Monique with Hirotaka?"

"No luck," Kim grumbled. "Mon and I sort of made idiots out of ourselves the last time he was in town and she doesn't want to remember that. Besides that, he's still being the arrogant playboy, in public, and Monique has so outgrown being interested in that kind of guy." She paused, "speaking of outgrowing shallowness, that was really cool of you to turn over your MVP trophy to the school."

"Yeah, well Oscar and the guys on the line did most of the work," Ron explained. "It seemed the right thing to do, but it seemed not enough. I mean, you don't know what it's like to have someone take one heck of a beating and you wind up with all the recognition."

"Oh?" The cushion muffled Kim's sarcastic tone.

"I mean, how do you thank someone for doing that for you?"

"I fell ferociously in love with the guy who did that for me!" Kim pointed out.

"Oh? Who did y-" Ron suddenly blushed. "Ah boo-ya."

"Keep the massage going, boyfriend," Kim instructed.

Ron worked his way all over her prone form, avoiding such areas with her father's 'high multiplier factor,' easing her agony down to a dull ache.

By the time he had finished, an intense relaxation and lethargy had claimed her limbs. "_I must be tired and sore_," she thought, "_This is a prime make-out sitch. He's just finished giving me a nearly full body massage, it's Friday night, and we're pretty close to being alone. All I need to do is turn over, reach up, and commence the hormone-percolation. But I just can't make myself move."_

"Thanks," she decided to say, instead, as he sat down on the floor, leaning back against the couch. She managed to move one arm, draping it over his shoulder and across his chest in sort of lazy hug.

"No big," he answered. "Since the typical date thing is on hold for tonight, how about just me making some snackage, for all of us, and we catch a movie, right here?"

"Badical," Kim declared. As the 'adult in the house,' she was responsible for making sure that her brothers managed a decent meal tonight. Since it was wrestling season, Ron's definition of snackage would meet her mother's approval. "Hurry back," she ordered him, as he went to the kitchen.

Later, the two snuggled on the couch, with him spooned up against her back, watching one of her favorite movies on DVD. Ron had literally herded her brothers out of the garage, deftly avoiding some unidentifiable machinery in the process, and forced them to eat. While he had been ready to bring her meal on a tray, she had decided that she had to try to move at least a little bit. After all, she had the early shift at Club Banana, with Monique, in the morning. Now, however, the tweebs were back in the garage, leaving her with some quality snuggle time.

"Are you trying to earn the best boyfriend in the world title?" She asked him, turning her head just enough to see his face.

"Hey, the best girlfriend in the world deserves no less," he answered.

"Answers like that can get you in trouble," she informed him, extending her neck to bring her lips to his.

The couple indulged in some light necking for several minutes before breaking off the action. The couple had been together long enough to know when one of them wanted to talk and Kim had recognized Ron's desire to communicate…verbally.

"KP, we've been together what, five months now?" He asked.

"As a couple," she clarified. "It seems like we've been together a lot longer, though."

"Yeah," he smiled. "I've sort of been thinking. You know, I think that we're more than just boyfriend and girlfriend, aren't we?"

"So much more," she agreed.

"I was hoping you'd want to…formalize it somehow," Ron's voice was quavering with his nervousness as he brought his hand up in front of her. Her eyes flew wide when he opened his hand, revealing what he was holding.

* * *

"So, my dear, would you like to divulge any details about your meeting?" Monty asked Shego as the two shared breakfast, or whatever you called a meal eaten just after sunup and just before you went to bed.

"It was with one of Jack Hench's boys," Shego informed him, glad for the diversion. Neither her nor Monty had developed much in the way of kitchen skills, and now they were working with strictly canned and dried food. Conversation might become a survival necessity. "Jack's got some sort of client he's fronting for. This client wants to get his mitts on Dr. D. They're willing to put some serious green in my palm, and put me into position to bust Drakken out of the joint."

"What will this client get in return?" Monty wondered.

"Drakken's services for a year or so," Shego answered. "It's actually a good deal for Dr. D. If the extradition goes through, he's gonna be looking at about a year in the pokey followed by a needle or the chair. Trust me on this, he'll jump at the chance to play 'staff mad scientist' for a year."

"But why liberate Dr. Drakken? Why not find another scientist?" Monty was honestly confused.

"Mad scientist types aren't that easy to come by," Shego pointed out. "As much as I heckled Drew all the time, most of his gizmos worked as advertised. He never seemed to be able to come up with a practical use for them but he was awfully good at making them. It's not easy to find that mix of technical expertise and lack of ethics. Not to mention, he's a wanted man. Whoever this guy is, he won't have to worry about Doc running off and blabbing to the cops."

"Do you have any idea who this client may be?"

"It's my job to not worry about it," Shego shrugged. "Whoever he is, he must have some serious Claud. The plans aren't finalized yet, but they should be able to put me into his prison and I can take it from there."

"Isn't there some difficulty dealing with the UN's security forces?"

"Monty," Shego shook her head. "The UN is about the most corrupt organization on the face of the Earth. Now, if they had just made Holland responsible for his security, I'd have problems. Since an actual UN contingent has taken it over there's about a dozen nations represented on the security force, with each guard answering to his own home nation. When that happens, there's always some bureaucrat, somewhere, willing to look the other way in return for a proper contribution."

"Ah, how forgetful of me," Monty smiled, raising his glass and remembering his own artifact smuggling efforts. "To multi-national political committees, the best friend the international criminal ever had."

Shego clicked glasses with him, an impish smile on her face.

"So," Monty continued. "Is there any way that I can be of assistance?"

"I'm not sure," Shego admitted, her face falling. "Just what are you capable of…after?"

"I must admit that I cannot recall any of my Tai Shen Pek Kwar skills," he conceded. "But I daresay that I'm still fit, intelligent and I have some smuggling contacts. In addition, I'm more than willing to endure any hardship and bear any burden to assist you in any way."

"Let's get back to that in a moment," Shego couldn't keep the smile off of her face. "What brought you out of your funk?"

"I was truly depressed," Monty admitted. "And I was honestly contemplating ending my life. However, I found a wonderful archeological site a short distance away. At that time, I realized that I still loved the science I had studied since childhood. Add to that, there are any number of museums and private collectors willing to pay for artifacts and forego questions." He smiled at her, "smuggling artifacts might not be as lucrative as dealing in drugs or weapons, but it is still profitable."

"So you're over your depression?" Shego pressed.

"I don't think that I will ever be 'over it'," Monty said, sadly. "But I'm no longer at the point that I feel I have nothing to live for. I am truly excited about excavating the site I discovered, just as I'm excited about assisting you in your more…nefarious endeavors."

"Hey, I'm looking forward to continuing our…partnership," Shego gave him a smoldering look from her half-closed eyes. Then her expression dropped. "When I came in and you weren't here…"

"My apologies," Monty was very contrite. "I have taken to working on the site during the night, when the temperature is lower. I take a lantern and screen off the area with a tarp, so the light doesn't reveal my location. I really should have left you some form of note but I was so excited about starting my work!"

Monty's attitude gave Shego a vague memory of the Wego on Christmas mornings. By an unspoken agreement, the two rose and approached each other.

"Monty," she breathed, pulling him into a tight embrace. "It's good to have you back."

* * *

Despite her sore muscles, Kim had a spring in her step and a smile on her face when she walked into Club Banana's employee entrance, early Saturday morning.

"Girlfriend," Monique looked up from where she had just checked in. "You can NOT be in that good of a mood this morning! It's six AM on a weekend, word has it that you had the workout of a lifetime yesterday afternoon, and you were watching the tweebs last night so you and Ron couldn't…" The gossip-queen's eyes suddenly went very wide, "did you and Ron manage to get frisky last night!?"

"So not, Mon," Kim giggled. "Of course, what would you have done if I had said yes?"

"Girl, if you had admitted it, you would have been dishing EVERY detail for the rest of this shift. Now, seriously! What's got you in such a good mood and is it something you can share?"

"I take it you won't believe it was a really good cup of coffee?" Kim teased, checking in.

"SNTSC," Monique shot back. "So not the slightest chance. Now spill, why aren't you dragging that skinny little butt of yours after yesterday's workout?"

"Nothing much," Kim deadpanned, grabbing an armload of sale sweaters and lugging them out to the sales floor. She took a quick look around, making sure that they were alone in the store. "I just got the greatest massage ever, from my BFPF."

"Oh, those big hands of his did some good work on you…wait a minute! What's BFPF?"

"Best friend…pre-fiancée," Kim gushed, holding up her left hand to display the silver ring, with a peridot, that Ron had given her during their cuddle session.

"NO WAY!" Monique pounced across the store and nearly yanked Kim's shoulder out of joint when she grabbed the proffered hand. "Ron gave this to you last night?" Kim nodded. "Is this a…"

"Promise ring," Kim almost squealed.

"NO WAY!" Monique repeated. "Alright girl, start spilling the details!"

The two teens had an enjoyable chat while they stocked the shelves on the sales floor. The advantage of the early shift, pre-store opening, was that the girls could chatter while working, not needing to worry about anyone overhearing what could be a private matter. Kim was feeling so relaxed that she told Monique the possible consequences of her recent wound. Monique was the first person, outside her family and Ron, to find out.

"So you actually thought Naco-boy would drop you 'cause you might not be able to have kids?" Monique was almost as flabbergasted by this piece of news than by her best friend's potential problem.

"Hey, go easy on me!" Kim protested, "I had just gotten back from the doctor, it had been a rough day, and the painkillers hadn't wore completely off yet!"

"And he just said that _**the two of you**_ would deal with it when the time came?" Monique prompted.

"Yeah," Kim smiled. "That's when we started to talk about…well…" She held up her hand, to display the ring again.

"Nothing can ever be normal for the two of you, can it?" Monique shook her head.

"And I wouldn't have it any other way," Kim declared.

"Girlfriend," Monique's expression suddenly grew very serious. "Let me say something about this right now. When the time comes for you two to start reproducing, and if you can't, you look me up."

Kim nearly dropped the stack of skirts she was carrying. "Are you offering what I think you're offering?" She gasped.

"Hey, what are friends for?" Monique asked. "Seriously though girlfriend, I don't know where we'll be when you want a baby, or even if you'll be with Ron, but just look me up and we'll talk about it then." She paused for a moment, "but if I do that for you, I get to be the godmother!"

"Monique, that is so ferociously sweet!"

"So, do you and Mr. 'Never-Be-Normal' have a hot date to celebrate planned for tonight?" Monique asked her radiant best friend.

"So not," Kim admitted. "His 'rents have some function to go to tonight, so he has babysitter duty. I thought I'd just head over there and play copilot."

"That's not happening," Monique informed her. "This is some serious gossip party material. How does a couple of friends, dinner at Riverna's and a chick-flick sound to you?"

"Great! Who are the friends?"

"I was thinking the two of us, Yori and Cindy. Do you have any other ideas?"

"Not really," Kim confessed. While she was friends with most of the girls on the squad, she wasn't 'gush about the promise ring' close to them.

"Leave it to me," Monique informed her friend. "I'll let Ron know that you'll be over to copilot later tonight and I'll put the 'girl session' together." Monique paused, "I'll kind of hint that it would be a good time for him to invite Oscar and Felix over to his place. We can do the reveal during the get together after our night out."

"Sounds great!"

* * *

Ron tried his best, but he knew that he was as good as dead. He used all of the speed, strength and skill he had spent so long developing but it wasn't enough. His tormentor was clearly superior. He almost welcomed the finishing blow, relieved that his humiliation had come to an end.

"I really thought I was ready to play tonight," he informed Felix. "But you always have my number." Ron surrendered his game controller to Oscar, so the other boy could take his turn being humiliated at Zombie Mayhem, while Ron played with his little sister. Oscar's luck was even worse.

"So, what happened between you and Kim?" Felix asked Ron.

"What do you mean? Why do you think that something's happened between us?"

"Let's look at the facts," Felix replied, never taking his eyes off of the game. "Monique called up both Yori and Cindy, to set up a girls' night out. She did so from work, **with Kim**. Now, when Kim's best friend suddenly calls up two of Kim's other close friends, to schedule a celebration, it must have something to do with Kim. The fact that both Yori and Cindy told us to expect them back here, at your house, after the movie, it means that it has something to do with you, as well. Since both you and Kim are involved, it means that it must have something to do with 'the two of you,' so to speak."

"The scariest part of all of this," Oscar chimed in. "Is that he can figure this all out while clobbering me." The burly boy set down his controller in disgust; having just had his undead, virtual keyster handed to him.

"It's what I do," Felix offered, with a modest shrug. He took the opportunity, with the gaming temporarily on hold, to grab a slice of pizza. This, of course, earned him hard looks from both other boys, who were on their wrestling diets.

"Anyway," Felix continued. "You didn't answer my question, Ron. What's going on between you and Kim?"

"It's kind of personal, y'know?" Ron offered. Two sets of eyebrows rose.

"It's not _**that**_!" Ron insisted. "For pity's sake, Kim's been injured! It's just that after she was hurt I realized how much we meant to each other, so I…let's just let it drop, okay?"

"Okay," Oscar answered, "but I'm sure we'll get it out, eventually. Now, to change the subject, what's this I've heard about you having an internship over next summer, Felix."

"I got an offer from International Manufacturing," Felix replied. "Apparently, someone in the organization was impressed with my amateur robotics work and wants to see if I can take it to the next level."

"What level is that?" Ron asked.

"Professional," Felix replied. "They want to know if I can design sellable robots and if I can put together robots that will increase their manufacturing efficiency. I got a call from the CEO himself."

"Who's that?" Prompted Oscar.

"Mr. Loward," Felix answered. "Mr. Warrick Loward. I've really considered him an inspiration. I don't have the use of my legs, but that guy's got amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, and is almost completely paralyzed. I mean, if he can build the world's largest multi-national manufacturing conglomerate with his handicap, I sure don't have any excuses." Felix frowned momentarily, "I heard that he was going to undergo some special, cutting-edge treatment. He hasn't made a public appearance for the last several months."

"So you're planning on accepting the internship?" Ron prompted.

"You bet!" Felix exclaimed. "I'm signed up to visit one of his sites in a few more weeks. If that goes well, I'll have another meeting a couple of weeks before graduation. I'll do an internship over the summer then it's off to MIT."

"Will you be doing internships over your college summers, as well?" Ron asked, just a little forlornly.

"That's that plan," Felix confirmed.

"Darn, I was hoping we'd find time to hang out during the summers," Ron mused. "I mean, I know we're all probably going to drift apart at some time, but I'd like to kind of put it off."

"Don't sweat, buddy," Felix assured him. "We'll all schedule our summers. I know you're going to be spending time in Japan and Oscar will probably be working, but we'll try to get together each year."

"Sounds like a plan," Oscar approved. The wrestler scooped up a delightfully squealing Hanna and proceeded to give her a piggyback ride around the house while Rufus challenged Felix to the next round of gaming. To up the stakes, both contestants had to eat a slice of pizza between levels. They were very evenly matched on both counts.

The boys, and Rufus, spent a couple more hours like this, playing video games, eating junk food, (at least Felix and Rufus ate junk food) and playing with Hanna. Hanna soon grew tired and Ron put her to bed, leaving the four males to generally chill out until the girls arrived. As soon as Kim, Monique, Yori, and Cindy arrived, Monique took charge of the gathering.

"Okay, game off and food put away!" She ordered. The three boys jumped to obey. "Now," she said, once they had finished. "I want the couples together."

Yori sat across Felix's lap, Cindy and Oscar sat close together at one end of the couch while Kim and Ron cuddled at the other.

"Now, could someone explain why I'm the only one here without a date?" Monique asked. "Everyone else is coupled up but I don't even have an escort for the evening."

"Ahem!" Came the hopeful sound from her feet. Monique looked down to see Rufus, smiling hopefully up at her.

"Okay, Rufus," she announced, picking up the little guy. "But this is just a 'friends' type of date, okay?"

"Okay," Rufus agreed, blushing a deeper shade of pink when Monique gave him a quick peck on the top of his head. He stood on Monique's shoulder as she sat down.

"Now, that we're all together," Monique continued. "It's time for Cindy and Yori to see why we've been celebrating. Kim, let's see it."

In response, Kim held up her left hand, displaying the ring.

"Is that…" Cindy gasped.

"Promise ring," Kim informed her.

"I do not understand," Yori confessed. "I noticed that Possible-San was wearing this ring but I do not appreciate the significance."

"You understand engagement and wedding rings, don't you?" Monique asked.

"Indeed, a wedding ring signifies that one is married, while an engagement ring signifies that one is going to be wed."

"A promise ring is one step below that," Monique answered. "It can mean a lot of things but in this case, I'm guessing that it means an intent to wed."

Kim and Ron, both blushing and smiling broadly, nodded.

"I still do not understand," the Japanese girl admitted.

"Kim and Ron aren't legal adults yet," Monique explained. "So it's too early for Ron to ask Kim to marry him. When he offered that ring to her, he was saying that he wanted them to date exclusively until they're old enough to marry. When she accepted it, she agreed."

"Ah," Yori nodded. "And by continuing to wear this ring, she announces to all that she has, at the very least, what you Americans call a significant other."

"Exactly," Monique confirmed.

"So, at what point in ones relationship is the offering of this ring to be expected?" Yori asked.

"There's no hard and fast rule," Cindy answered. "There isn't always one involved. Usually, it's at the point where the couple are comfortable thinking that they're going to spend the rest of their lives together."

"Is this why Williamsen-san has not offered you such a ring," Yori asked Cindy. "Even though you have been dating for longer than Possible-san and Stoppable-san?"

"There's other things involved," Oscar replied, looking rather uncomfortable. "For one thing, we haven't been friends for as long as Kim and Ron."

"That has a big effect," Cindy confirmed, hugging her boyfriend to let him know that she wasn't judging him.

"So, may I expect such an item from you, Felix-kun, in the near future?"

"Well," the robotics genius pulled at his collar. "It's um…ahhh…like…"

"I see," Yori turned to the other teens. "It would appear that a boy giving his girlfriend such a ring provides his friend's girlfriend with an excellent opportunity to bully him."

"Yori," Monique shook her head. "You're adapting to America just fine."

* * *

_A/N: Thirty chapters and still going strong. I'd like to give a little wave to Sentinel 103, who's been hinting that it's about time for a promise ring. _

_Thanks, as always, to everyone who is taking time to read and review this little tale that continues to crawl out of my imagination._

_Big thanks, again as always, to Joe Stoppinghem, for taking time out of his busy life to Beta._

_Until my next update, best wishes,_

_daccu65_


	31. Challenges and Confrontations

Chapter 31: Challenges and Confrontations

There was nothing like a desert drive to give you far too much time to think. Shego contemplated this thought, trying to drive out her other thoughts, as the moonlit sands passed by. She had taken this same route less than a week ago but at that time she had been preoccupied by worrying about both Drakken and Fisk. This time, Fiske was driving, giving her a break, at least in theory.

In reality, she was wondering about her unnamed, ultimate employer's motivations. Was this some sort of setup? She doubted it but she had been wrong before. Were she and Monty heading into an ambush? Would someone murder Drakken once they had liberated him? Shego shook her head, he was a dead man the way it was. If she sprung him, at least he'd have a chance.

Shaking her head, she reviewed the journey they were upon: First, an SUV drive across the Libyan border and to the city of Sabha. Once there, they swapped their ride for another SUV for a drive to Tobruk. This was the current stage of their journey. Once at Trobruk, they would catch a flight to Tripoli, and then on to Rome. She and Monty had all the forged identity papers they would need to enter Europe. From Rome, another flight to Brussels and then a train ride to Amsterdam. There, they would find their accommodations, more forged identities, and they would meet with their contact one last time. From there…

"Were you able to rest?" Monty asked her.

"Not really," she admitted.

"Ah, the supreme tactician," Monty sympathized. "You can't help but review our upcoming actions."

"That's part of it," Shego confessed. "I'm also wondering about Drakken, once we get him out of there."

"You question the motives of his so-called employer?" Monty prompted.

"I know that we've gone over this," Shego admitted. "And we've decided that he's better off with a chance than where he's at now. It's just…"

"If you deliver him to some madman with a personal vendetta, you have become culpable for what happens to him," Monty concluded. "While if you take no action, you can justify, at least to yourself, that you were unable to help him and therefore blameless. It all comes down to if you are willing to take action, and the corresponding responsibility."

"I've never backed down from anything!" Shego snarled at him.

"Now **that's** the Shego I know," Monty said, in a satisfied tone. "As conditions stand, Dr. Drakken is doomed to death. Had you simply waited in the shadows until after his execution, you would never have stopped questioning your motivations."

"We're people of action," Shego nodded. "Not people of contemplation." Shego sat up straight, only idly paying attention to the surrounding wasteland. "So, let's go over this mission again. I impersonate a guard and you impersonate an inspector. My…I mean our employer has the papers written up, transferring us to this assignment."

"We establish separate residences and arrive at different times," Monty continued for her. "I am British while you are from Argentina. On the first day, you slip him a note, on digestible paper (Fisk had to grin when he considered Drakken eating the note) informing him of the breakout."

"The day after, we execute the plan," Shego concluded. "Now, let's go over this plan one more time…"

The kilometers flew by, unnoticed, as the two reviewed their upcoming actions.

* * *

Tension built in the Middleton High locker room as the varsity wrestlers prepared to go out and meet Upperton for the first dual match of the season. The B team had just returned from the gym after securing a narrow victory. Ron was tense, preparing for his match. The blonde boy had secured the varsity, 167 pound slot the previous week. 167; how had he put on close to thirty pounds since the previous year?

Still, he had to admit that he preferred wrestling to football. It wasn't that he didn't like football. He enjoyed the teamwork and camaraderie. The cheers from the stands were fun and he enjoyed the anonymity that the uniform provided. No, there was nothing wrong with football; he had enjoyed it immensely.

Still, there was something special about wrestling. He found something alluring about the one-on-one competition. There were no grand, team strategies, no deceptive play and no substitutions. There was just you, and how well you had prepared your mind and body, facing your opponent, and how well **he** had prepared **his** mind and body. Trying to relax, Ron looked down at his feet. Upon seeing his shoes, his random brain conjured up one of those analogy things his English teachers kept talking about.

When he played football, he wore shoes with ankle support, arch support and cleats. The cleats could be changed for a muddy field, dry field, or artificial turf. His wrestling shoes, on the other hand, were barely even there. They consisted of only a thin nylon cover and a rubber sole, with a bottom designed to grip the mat without damaging it. The shoes reflected the sports; football was specialized and intricate. Wrestling was straightforward and individual.

"Stoppable! If you're finished checking out your toes, we're ready to head out!" Coach Winters' sarcastic comment brought Ron out of his reverie to see that the team had lined up at the door. With a bright blush and a sheepish grin, Ron took his place in line, right behind Oscar. Someone opened the door.

"Let's go!" Coach Winters roared, and the boys sprinted out of the locker room, down the hall and to the gym.

* * *

Yori sat next to Felix, on a balcony overlooking the gym, where her boyfriend had positioned himself to film the matches. She would have preferred to sit on his lap but this was not an appropriate circumstance for displaying such affection. A short time ago she had watched Hirotaka-san defeat his opponent during his 185 pound 'B' match. She smiled, recalling her second-cousin's decision to join the wrestling team.

Knowing that both Yori and Hirotaka were skilled martial artists, Barkin-sama had asked them to put on a demonstration. Williamsen-san, as one of the high school's better athletes, had drawn the dubious honor of facing Hirotaka. While the American boy had no formal training, he was still quick, strong, and agile. Still, he stood no chance against Hirotaka and soon found himself sprawled on the floor, before Barkin-sama had called for a halt. Williamsen-san had been good natured about the entire incident, so much so that Hirotaka had decided to join the wrestling team, giving the American boy a chance to, as the Americans' say, return the favor.

As much as Hirotaka had guessed, Williamsen-san was every bit as superior to him on the wrestling mat as he was superior to the American boy in a dojo. However, he quickly realized that Williamsen-san was far more interested in teaching wrestling skills to those about him than he was in exhibiting his superiority. Impressed with this, and realizing that being on the team would provide him with further opportunity to observe Stoppable-san, Hirotaka had remained on the team. He had soon secured the 'B', or second slot, in the 185 pound, or 84.1 kg, weight class.

Armed with his observations during wrestling practice, Hirotaka had reported to Sensei that this sport had proven to be a great benefit to Stoppable-san. While wrestling was in no way a combat sport, the hard work had gone a long way towards combating Stoppable-san's low self-esteem. Wrestling had taught Stoppable-san to expect success and this lesson had spilled over into other aspects of the boy's life. Shortly after becoming a wrestler, Stoppable-san had begun to demand better grades and better performance on Possible-san's missions, from himself. While Yamanouchi had taught the boy some skills, the so-called 'Pit' had taught him to expect himself to apply those skills successfully.

Her memories were interrupted by Jenkins-san's arrival.

"Hey Yori, Felix," Monique greeted her two friends. "I won't be a TW if I join you, will I?"

"What is a tee double you?" Yori asked, confused. While she was quite fluent in English, Monique-speak confounded her, as well as almost everyone else.

"Third wheel," Felix answered. "It's American slang for an unwanted, or awkward third party."

"Ah," Yori nodded. "No, Jenkins-san, you shall not be this third wheel." An impish grin crossed the Japanese girl's face, "Felix-kun and myself are in the habit of finding seclusion before indulging in activities which could be embarrassing in public."

Monique looked rather archly at the boy in the wheelchair.

"Um…er…what brings you here, Monique?" He asked.

"Kim gave me one of her old Kimmunicators," she answered, reluctant to let Felix off the hook but unable to find a good reason not to answer. "Kim's in Upperton, cheering for the basketball team but she can still watch her PF wrestle. When it's Ron's turn, I'll use this to transmit it to Kim."

"And this point provides a good vantage point, does it not?" Yori inquired.

"Exactly," Monique agreed.

"Then it will be our honor if you would join us," Yori declared.

"Great," Monique accepted. "This will give you guys a chance to fill me in on these 'embarrassing in public' activities that you indulge in."

"Uh…" Felix managed, before the Middleton varsity squad made their appearance.

Oscar, the captain, led the squad as they ran, single file, around the mat before jogging onto their side and lining up for their pre-match warmups. Ron, Terry and Herman, the squad's seniors, faced the rest of the wrestlers and led them in some simple workouts, loosening them up for the matches to come. Before long, the opening formalities were finished and the matches started. Felix recorded the matches, glad that he didn't have an audio feed; Monique tended to be very vocal in her support of the Middleton wrestlers. Finally Brad, the 155-pound wrestler finished his match. Monique called Kim.

"What's up, Mon?" Kim asked, just finishing a routine during a timeout.

"Your PF is getting ready for his match," Monique informed her friend. "Middleton's up by three points. What's the sitch at your end?"

"Upperton's ahead by five," Kim told her. The redhead waved for Bonnie to run the squad for a few minutes while Kim stepped behind the bleachers to watch the match. She almost tripped over a small, younger teen girl.

"K-K-Kim Possible?" The girl asked, almost in awe of the heroine.

"That's me," Kim answered, in a kindly voice. She forced herself to be polite, even though she wanted to watch the match.

"M-m-my name is Barb," the girl introduced herself. "A-a-and I heard that your boyfriend wrestled at 167."

"Yes," Kim was starting to get a little impatient.

"M-m-my brother wrestles for Upperton at 167," the younger girl blurted out. "A-and I thought that you might have some way of w-watching R-R-R-er, your boyfriend."

"Then we'd better watch the match together," Kim told the younger girl, pulling her next to her so that they could watch the Kimmunicator screen.

"Okay, here goes," Monique's voice came over the speaker, as the two boys took their spots on the circle, after shaking hands.

The referee blew his whistle, signifying the start of the match. Ron closed in on his opponent. Both boys hand-sparred for several seconds, trying to gain control of each other's wrists. Ron noticed that his opponent was carrying his weight just a little too forward and pounced immediately. Ron grabbed his opponent's right wrist with his left hand and pulled. He then hooked the other boy's right arm with his own right hand, pulling the arm to his right and exposing his opponent's right side. Wasting no time, Ron launched a single-leg takedown at the boy's right leg.

The other boy sprawled but Ron was quicker and had gotten the shot in deep. Ron then struggled to his feet, keeping his head tight against his opponent's thigh, preventing an effective cross-face. Since he had an advantage, he maneuvered his hopping opponent to the middle of the mat before tripping the boy's left leg. The Upperton Wrestler went down while Ron released his leg and surged up his body in an effort to secure a control and pinning hold.

The Upperton wrestler was no slouch; he executed a sit-out even as Ron tried to catch up with him. Several additional seconds went by with the other boy trying to escape from Ron and Ron trying to secure some sort of hold on his opponent. Finally, Ron caught up to him and secured his favorite pinning hold, a combination chicken-wing and tight-waist. Ron rotated around his opponent, twisting the boy onto his back.

Kim allowed herself to smile, but didn't make a sound, since the other boy's sister was standing next to her. Instead, she watched as Ron leveraged the other boy onto his back. The Upperton wrestler was strong and resilient. His thrashing had kept Ron from cinching his hold in good and tight. While Ron had the boy turned over, he was unable to put both of the other boy's shoulders on the mat. The first period ended with Ron ahead, five points to zero.

Ron won the coin toss for the second period and chose the up position. His opponent got down on all fours while Ron crouched behind him, his left hand on his opponent's left elbow and his right hand flat on his opponent's belly. Both boys tensed as the referee raised his hand. With a short burst on his whistle and a snap of his hand, the official started the match again. Ron executed a jam, holding his opponent's left arm immobile and driving him towards that hand. The Upperton wrestler reacted almost as Ron was executing the move.

The boy performed a gramby-roll, catching the arm Ron had around his waist and rolling across his shoulders. This move actually made use of the energy Ron had expended to break the boy down. With the roll completed, the Upperton wrestler had a reversal and a hammerlock on Ron. Ron wasted no time, executing a series of sit-outs while trying to twist his captured arm out of his opponent's grip. After several endless seconds of lunging and twisting, Ron managed to free his arm and burst onto his feet.

A final spin broke Ron free of his opponent's grip and earned him an escape. However, the boy kept moving forward and launched a double leg before Ron set himself. The boy executed the double-leg in classic form, lifting Ron and dumping him on his side. Ron spun onto his belly and built up his base just as the buzzer sounded. The second period ended with Ron ahead six to four.

The final period began with Ron in the down position. He tensed up, prepared to burst into action the moment the referee restarted the match. With the whistle, he launched himself forward in another sit-out and his opponent struggled to keep up with him. For the first minute of the final period, the match went this way, with Ron struggling to gain more separation between himself and his opponent. More than once, he had to kick his leg to avoid a pick. Finally, he had enough separation to spin inside his opponent, facing the boy. Ron launched forward, burying his shoulder in the boy's stomach, and tackled him to the mat.

Since he hadn't actually broken contact before putting his opponent down, he was awarded a reversal, rather than an escape and a takedown. Still, he was now up by a score of eight to four. The other boy spun onto his stomach and brought one leg up, trying to rise to his feet. Ron took advantage of his momentary…compacted posture to entangle him in a cradle. Ron put his own left arm across the boy's face and grabbed his right biceps. He then brought his right hand up between his opponent's legs and grabbed the same biceps. This hold constituted a 'clasping hands' penalty, unless Ron executed an immediate pinning maneuver. Ron did so, throwing his body over the other boy's back and rolling them both over. The Upperton wrestler struggled to escape, but Ron had a solid grip. Ron continued to tighten his grip as the boy struggled, inexorably forcing his shoulders to the mat until….

The buzzer signaled the end of the match before Ron could gain the pin. Still, Ron had won his match eleven to four, earning his team three points. He shook hands with his opponent and the referee raised his hand. Ron turned and trotted back to the Middleton side of the mat while Oscar came out to wrestle his match.

"Hey, don't take this badly," Kim consoled Barb, back in Upperton. She put her arm around the younger girl's shoulders. "Ron's a tough boy. He's tangled with supervillains and mad scientists. Your brother will get better at this."

"I know," Barb muttered. "I was just hoping that…"

"He could knock off the famous boy?" Kim asked, with a smile.

"Well," Barb looked uneasy. "Yeah."

"Don't feel bad, at least you were polite about it. I'm used to the 'Possible, you are going down' sort of rant."

"Oh," Barb looked up at her. "Thanks for letting me watch." She paused, "you're boyfriend seems to be a good wrestler and you're really a good cheerleader."

"Thanks Barb," Kim then rushed back to the squad. Neither girl noticed the small, digital camera that had recorded them watching the Kimmunicator.

Back in Middelton, Monique turned off the transmitter and enjoyed the final two matches; at least as much as she could enjoy them. Oscar absolutely annihilated his opponent, pinning the boy in under a minute. Then, at heavyweight, Mat Soley, Ron's and Oscar's nemesis from the football field, pinned the Middleton heavyweight in the second period. The duel was over, with Middleton earning a six point victory. In Upperton, Kim and the rest of the Middleton cheerleaders tried to keep up the Middleton spirits despite the fact that Upperton inflicted a five point loss on the Middleton basketball team. In both gymnasiums, the athletes exchanged some pleasantries before heading off to their respective showers and getting ready to go home. All in all, it had been a typical athletic competition between the two schools.

* * *

Shego stewed in her small, efficiency apartment. She wished that she could spend the night with Monty, but the two of them had agreed that doing so would risk unnecessary exposure. Instead, she had found an English Language channel on the small TV. Not that she was paying the program any attention, she was laying out her equipment for tomorrow. The television simply covered up any sounds that her preparations might make, and be overheard through the tissue-paper-and-spit walls in this cheap building.

She sighed again. The meeting with the contact had gone well. She had actually managed to see Drakken and she had slipped him the message. Tomorrow, they would make the move, while Drakken was being transported back to the US.

Of course, that depended upon her and Monty executing their missions yet tonight. She secured a vial into her holster and slipped out into the night. The UN-sanctioned pilot always stopped for coffee at a certain corner shop every evening before returning to his billets. Two kilometers away, a mechanic with a distinguished, British accent passed through an airbase's security too service a certain private jet's pressurization and electronics systems.

* * *

_A/N: _

_Thank you all again for your continued reading and reviews of this little tale that seems unwilling to come to and end. I hope you are enjoying it as much as I'm enjoying writing it. _

_A big thanks, again, to Joe Stoppinghem for his continued beta services._

_Until my next update, best wishes:_

_daccu65_


	32. Putting it Together

Chapter 32: Putting Things Together

"Captain Creel, your pilot, Major Sapote, has called in sick. You will pilot this flight."

"What happened to him?" The U.S. Air Force captain asked his UN superior.

"It appears that the milk in his late night cappuccino had some Botulism bacteria in it. He's undergoing treatment right now."

"Do I get a copilot?"

"Right here," a feminine, but assertive voice announced from behind him. The captain looked around to see a rather short but striking woman enter the room.

"Lieutenant Godfrey, from the Argentinean Air Force," she introduced herself, with a sharp salute. The American captain smiled at the 'palm-out' salute and returned it American style; palm-down.

"This is odd," Captain Creel muttered. "Both the flight engineer and the pilot get sick the same night. We were going to have an Italian pilot, American copilot and a Belgian flight engineer. Now it's an American pilot, an Argentinean copilot, and a British flight engineer."

"I do not see the problem," Lieutenant Godfrey protested. "As an American pilot, entering American airspace should be less of a problem now. As for the flight engineer, Airman Fiskenship is most capable. He completed some routine maintenance on the craft last night, so he is the logical choice to fly with us today."

"I don't see any problems, lieutenant," Creel informed her. "I find it odd that two of the flight crew come up sick during a twelve-hour stretch."

"Do you question my qualifications?" The question was polite enough to not be insubordinate but pointed enough to gain his attention.

"Not at all," the good captain's assertiveness returned. "Let's go start our pre-flight check. "The ground-pounders will be bringing that blue freak in another hour and I want to be in the air within five minutes of his butt hitting the seat. He's got all sorts of enemies who'd like to take a shot at him and I don't want to be on the ground, between them and him, if that happens."

* * *

Her eyes opened to filtered light, diffracted by the liquid that encased her. Her sharp mind, now sluggish, remembered when she had immersed herself in the tank. She heard the slight whir of a motor and felt the pressure underneath her as she was lifted from the tank. She looked around her as the robotic arm laid her on a medical table. Medical technicians, her assistants, unhooked the webbing from the arm.

"Doctor Hall," her chief assistant approached her. "Can you hear me? Can you understand me?"

Lungs and larynx were forced into action. She forced out the last of the fluid that had filled her lungs for…how long? Inhaling, she used her reconstructed speech equipment for the first time.

"I can hear you," she whispered. "And obviously, I can understand you." Her voice had grown stronger during this short statement. "Furthermore, I can remember you, Doctor Ernst, and I remember that you are my assistant. Report on the subject's progress." This last sentence was delivered with a slight smile, as she was the subject.

"Your progress has been nothing short of…incredible," the doctor reported to her. "We're just now performing our initial, direct evaluation. Please relax and let us do our work."

DNAmy…no, the woman who used to be DNAmy, did as directed. She endured perhaps a quarter hour of being poked and prodded until Dr. Ernst addressed her again.

"Doctor Hall," he addressed her. "You appear to be in perfect health. I'd like you to try to sit up now and we may even try a few steps. Use caution, you're a great deal larger and stronger than you were when you went into the tank."

The doctor offered a hand to Amy, which she took. She was stunned for over a minute. First of all her hand was a somewhat darker shade of green than that…hussy's skin and secondly her hand absolutely dwarfed Dr. Ernst's. She shook her head, she had known that she would grow and as for her revised pigmentation, she should have expected something. She swung her feet to the floor and, for the first time in her rebuilt body, stood.

Again, she was stunned. She had always been a short woman, but now her assistants seemed so much shorter than her.

"_No,"_ she thought. _"I now tower over them!"_

She looked at herself. While she was only covered in a somewhat revealing sheet, she felt no shame or embarrassment. She was formed exactly like she had wanted to be: She was tall, powerful, but still had a feminine form. She was taking her first, tentative steps when her benefactor arrived.

"You have achieved locomotion much faster than I did," the man admitted.

"Part of that is due to the electroshock therapy I applied during her reformation," Dr. Ernst informed him. "I stimulated her muscles as they were forming. While she needs to practice using them, they are strong and ready to go."

"I guess I owe you an apology for that," Amy admitted to her benefactor. "I would have saved you a great deal of painful, physical therapy if I had thought of it."

"It's nothing," Mr. Loward informed her. "Learning to walk again, after all those years was more a treat than a trial." He smiled, then gestured for the others to leave.

When will you be ready to alter me again," he asked when they were alone. "So that I can become what you have?"

"I think we should wait for a couple of months," Amy informed him. "We aren't sure that this new body is stable and there are always some minor improvements to be made."

"Improvements?" He snorted. "How can you improve on what you've made yourself? You're human perfection!"

"I go beyond human now!" Amy asserted. "I have become the first of a new race! I am better than human; stronger, more resilient and smarter and it's all because of you! You gave me this vision when I was at my lowest, when a man I loved spurned me and his lover belittled me! I will have my revenge, we will have our revenge on this world that thought so little of us!"

"I'm eager to join you," Mr. Loward informed her.

"You will, once I can assure myself that this procedure is perfectly safe, and long lasting," Amy assured him. "It is the least of the debts I owe you." Suddenly, inspiration struck the now gigantic woman. "Now, I give you another honor. Like I said, I am now more than human, therefore I will now name the race that I have created, the species that I have become. From now on, I will not be known as a human, in your honor my species shall be known as…Lowardians."

* * *

"Control Tower, this is UN flight papa-tango-whiskey zero six five, requesting clearance for takeoff," Shego, in the guise of Lieutenant Godfrey requested into the microphone.

"UN flight papa-tango-whiskey zero six five, you are cleared for takeoff at this time," the tower replied. "Your transponder is fully functional and you are cleared to cross Dutch, English, Irish, and US airspace. Godspeed and I'll be glad to have your passenger out of my country."

"Roger that, control tower," Shego responded, forcing herself to smile. "Captain," she now addressed the pilot. "Air traffic control has cleared us for takeoff."

"Roger that, copilot," the captain nodded. "Flight engineer?"

"All systems nominal," the cultured voice, with the British accent, replied from behind the pilot's and copilot's seats. "We are prepared for takeoff."

"Roger that, engineer," the captain nodded again and keyed his intercom. "Passenger deck?"

"The passenger and all crew are secured for takeoff," the report sounded from the cockpit speaker.

"Roger that, passenger deck," Captain Creel replied. "Prepare for takeoff."

With that, the captain gunned the engines and released the brakes, sending the aircraft hurtling into the European sky. The skilled pilot quickly and smoothly brought the small aircraft to the assigned heading, altitude and speed.

"We are on course at this time," he announced to all parties on the aircraft. "Our estimated time to enter US airspace is six and one-half hours and we should be touching down in roughly seven hours."

"_I think you're wrong,"_ Shego thought to herself. _"We're going to be going off course, at least the course you have planned, when we clear Irish airspace, in a little under an hour. It's too bad, you're a good pilot and seem like an okay guy. I actually hope you survive what's about to happen."_

* * *

"Just what did you think you were doing here?!" Ron cringed at the accusing tone of voice coming his way. "When you're wrestling from a dominant position, always keep your hips over your opponent and keep your weight on him! Force HIM to carry YOUR weight. And what was this with you lollygagging after earning the escape? KEEP MOVING! It was YOU standing there that let him get the takedown on you!"

Ron had started this little discussion a little out of sorts, anyway. While he admitted that reviewing the video footage from last night's match would be a good investment of time, over his morning's free period, he didn't expect to be doing the reviewing with Cindy. Secondly, he wasn't ready for Cindy to be so knowledgeable about the sport. Granted, she had spent the last three years cheering at the matches, seeing countless matches from a very close perspective. Third, he had never known his friend's girlfriend to be so…vocally forceful.

"Now, the third period was better," she continued. "You took the initiative from the start and kept it throughout the period. He was reacting to you the entire time, not the other way around. Now, you could have cinched that cradle in tighter and gotten a pin. You were just lucky that we didn't need the three additional points you could have gotten us."

"I won, didn't I?" Ron protested.

"You could have had a pin!" She snapped back, "look Ron, you're a returning letterman, a guy who went to state last year, the team needs you to deliver the best that you can. We were up three points before your match. After your match, we were only up six when we could have been up by nine. If Oscar had lost and Soley had pinned our heavyweight, we would have lost the dual."

"Okay, what do I do next time?"

"Follow the basics that Coach Winters has been trying to drill into your head," Cindy told him. "Be aggressive, be decisive and keep your head in the game, don't let up on the other guy. Drive him, force him to react to you so that every mistake he makes is magnified! Remember, doing something good and aggressive right now is better than doing something great and aggressive a couple of seconds later."

"You realize that you're starting to scare me."

"You did well during the first and third period," Cindy replied, smiling at his comment. "If you do that during the entire match, you'll be okay."

"Well, if you're done critiquing my boyfriend," Kim said, stepping into the spare classroom the other two teens were using. "I need to borrow him. Wade just called in a mission."

"Thanks, Cindy," Ron told his evaluator. He got to his feet and followed Kim, "What's the sitch?"

"We've got a problem in Upperton," Kim answered, breaking into a brisk trot, causing Ron to increase his pace. "There's a teen acting very aggressively at the high school. So far, she's beaten up two other students, shrugged off pepper spray and has vanished into a blocked-off classroom wing. The police have cordoned off the area and are waiting for us."

"Yeah, I read that Upperton High had added a new wing, but hadn't demolished the old wing yet," Ron frowned. "But why are the Upperton Police calling us? Isn't this more of a police issue?"

"That's the second part of the bad news," Kim informed him, her face grim. "Apparently there's a new drug starting to appear in Upperton. It seems to stimulate the adrenal glands and mixes up the pain response."

"And the authorities suspect that she's on this drug." Ron's remark was more a statement than a question, as the team ran outside the school to a county sheriff's helicopter.

"Exactly," Kim agreed. "The symptoms of an overdose include extreme aggressiveness, increased strength and an inhibited pain response. The police are concerned that if they physically confront her, or use a tazer, her heightened adrenal response might cause her heart to blow out. They're also afraid to leave her on her own for too long."

"So they want to bring in a martial arts expert," Ron quipped, as they hopped in the helicopter and strapped themselves in. "They're hoping that you can take her out, quick, before her adrenaline rush can cause her more problems."

"That might be what _**they're**_ thinking," Kim told him, now using the helicopter's intercom system. "I'm thinking more along the lines of using a guy who's shown an ability to use his carotid artery choke. If you've never experienced one, you don't know how much trouble you're in until you're out."

"I'll do whatever you want me to," Ron assured her. "What's the plan?"

The two teens discussed the upcoming confrontation during the short flight to Upperton High School. It was only a few minutes before the chopper set down in an open lot, a couple of blocks away. A police car picked up the teens and shuttled them to the high school.

"Hello, I'm Captain Smith of the Upperton PD," a man in uniform introduced himself to Kim. "We've closed off the fire doors between this wing and the rest of Upperton High. We'd like you to go in this door, on the opposite side from the rest of the school. We want to minimize the disruption to school operations."

"Good thinking, captain," Kim agreed. "What more can you tell us?"

"Not much," the captain admitted. "The suspect is a senior, eighteen year old female. She's an alternate on the cheerleading squad, so she's in excellent physical condition. Thermal imaging shows her to be in that room." Here, the police officer pointed to a window on the second floor. She appears to be pacing around the room. She's very aggressive, but there's an outside chance that a couple of teens might be able to get her to calm down, when adults cannot."

"What more can you tell us about the drug you think she's taken?" Kim prompted.

"We don't have much info, beyond what we gave your technical expert, at this time," he admitted. "It doesn't seem to be delivered through the usual distribution networks. We've only had a handful of incidents so far and we've only just established that it is a new drug, as opposed to unique reactions to existing substances."

"Okay, we're going in," Kim declared.

Kim and Ron walked into the abandoned wing, up the nearest set of stairs, and made their way to the room in question. As per their earlier plans, Kim stayed out while Ron knocked on the door before walking inside.

"Who are you!?" The demand came in a shrill, fast-paced voice. Ron looked to the source and saw the girl. She was tall for a girl, maybe five foot six. She had wavy, shoulder length brunette hair and although she wore a baggy sweatshirt, Ron guessed that she had a trim, athletic build.

"I'm nobody important," Ron assured her, holding his hands out in a placating gesture. "What are you doing here all alone?"

"Nothing!" She snapped back. Ron noticed that she would have probably had a very fair complexion but she was flushed and, despite the cool, unheated room, was sweating profusely.

"Do you mind if I chill here for a few minutes?" Ron asked. "Everybody out there was starting to get on my nerves."

This question obviously confused the girl. Her head shifted rapidly, several times, as she tried to make sense of this strange visitor. She had expected teachers or police to rush in and drag her off. Instead, a boy just wandered in and started to talk to her. She stared at him, allowing Ron to note that, despite the bright sunshine streaming in through the windows, her pupils were dilated.

"Just what are YOU doing here?!" The girl demanded of him.

Out in the hallway, Kim was impressed with the way her BFPF was handling the sitch. The plan was to try to calm the girl down and get her to walk out on her own. Unfortunately for the Upperton Police Department, their expert negotiators weren't martial arts experts. While Ron wasn't as capable at 'talking a subject down' as one of the professionals, he was much more likely to come out of a violent encounter without serious injury. He was also much better than Kim at dealing with 'flawed' people, so Kim was in the hall, prepared to rush to his aid and hoping that he didn't need her assistance.

"Nothing important," Ron told her. "Everyone outside, running all over the place, kinda got to me, y'know? I just thought I'd slip in here and catch a few minutes. How about you?"

There was a pause of several seconds, each of which felt like a lifetime, when, finally…

"Hiding," the girl's voice was much less confrontational.

"What from?" Ron asked. The girl's face suddenly snapped up, glaring at him.

"Hey, you don't have to tell if you don't want to," Ron held up his hands again. He walked to the wall furthest from the girl and sat down on the floor, leaning against the wall.

Again, the girl paused before answering.

"I got in a fight," she admitted, now sitting, herself.

"Yeah, things can get to you, can't they?" Ron commiserated. "By the way, my name's Ron."

"Janine," she responded, without hesitation. "Yeah, I mean nobody understands! I try so hard to get on the squad but I'm not good enough! It's bad enough that Meg, Wonda, and Sal lord it over me because THEY made the squad, but now my mom's telling me that I need to work harder to make it. After all, SHE was a cheerleader in high school and she wants her daughter to be one, too." She looked at Ron and tears started to flow out of her eyes. "I try hard, I really do! I bring home As and Bs on my report card; dad's happy with that, but nobody else really cares about that. It's all about making the squad, or the team, or something like that."

Out in the hall, Kim suppressed another twinge of guilt, realizing that there was a lot of kids, and parents, back in Middleton with the same attitude.

"Hey, you got something on me," Ron admitted. "I'm a mostly gentleman's Cs guy, myself. So, what happened?"

"Well, when I got to practice this morning, Meg was being a complete b-"

Kim marveled had her BFPF's ability to get the girl talking. Hopefully, they would be able to handle this whole incident without any more drama. Suddenly, Kim recalled Ron's actions when they had met the monkeys in Belize. He had been calming and empathetic, rather than stern and demanding. Why was she equating those actions with what he was doing right now? She kept quiet and listened to the conversation continue for several more minutes. Finally…

"You know," Ron mused. "I'll bet that everyone out there's worried about you more than they're wanting to punish you." He got up and looked out of the window. "I tell you what, why don't you let me call the police? If they all leave, I'll walk with you down to the ambulance."

"Why should I go to the ambulance?" She was a little confused.

"You said that you had taken some, what did you call it, Pump?" He asked. The girl nodded.

"That can't be good, I'm sure that everyone's going to want to make sure that you're alright. I'll walk with you the entire way."

"You'll do that for me?" She looked almost desperate.

"You bet, can I make the call?"

She nodded.

A few minutes later, the police pulled back a full block. Ron gave the trembling girl a hand to her feet and they walked out of the classroom. Kim kept out of sight but followed the two. Ron led her down the stairs and out of the door, with her clinging to his arm. The ambulance was only a few yards away when a commotion sounded off to the side.

"Can you tell us what happened here today?" Ron and Janine spun at the question, seeing a reporter followed by a cameraman rushing towards them, around the corner of the wing. Two policemen appeared a moment later, pursuing the duo.

"This is Marla Agile, reporting from Upperton High School, where a tense standoff appears to have been resolved peacefully. Mr. Ploppable, can you tell me how you did it?"

"YOU LIED TO ME!?" Janine snapped at Ron. "WHY CAN'T EVERYONE JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!?" The suddenly distraught girl threw a wild haymaker at Ron.

Ron blocked the blow, but the sheer force sent him sprawling up against the ambulance. Janine turned her attention upon the reporter, only to have Kim leap forward and interpose herself between them. Janine threw another haymaker at Kim, which the redhead dodged. The two policemen grabbed the reporter and the cameraman and started to drag them away as Ron got back to his feet.

As per their earlier 'just in case' plans, Kim kept Janine's attention. The brunette kept throwing wild punches, which Kim continued to dodge, while Ron threw himself onto the unsuspecting girl's back. The assault knocked the girl to the ground as Ron wrapped his legs around her torso, trapping one of her arms. The blond boy found his grip, applying pressure to the girl's carotid artery while one of the EMTs grabbed her legs in a bearhug, robbing her of the leverage needed too break out of Ron's grip. Kim circled the melee, keeping an eye out for further trouble.

Janine quit fighting after less than a minute. The EMTs, assisted by Ron, quickly loaded her onto a stretcher, restrained her, then loaded her into the ambulance. Hearing some faint sounds of distress from the school's main campus, Kim looked up and noticed that several students had managed to watch the event, albeit from a distance. Police swarmed the area, searching for evidence.

Captain Smith decided that the school's principal needed to be kept updated, so he chose to hold the debriefing in the principal's office. This caused a somewhat subdued scene, as police escorted Ron and Kim through the school to the office in question. The head guidance counselor joined them. Ron quickly outlined his conversation with the girl, while answering questions about her behavior and physical symptoms. Soon, the discussion moved on to other topics, such as prevention and detecting the stuff.

"Could I be excused," Ron piped up. "I'm not really much of an expert with this…strategic planning stuff."

"Fair enough young man," the police captain approved. "Stay close while we continue this meeting. We might have further questions."

"The receptionist will give you a hall pass," the principal informed him.

Soon, Ron was in the hall outside the principal's office, looking for a familiar face and trying to accomplish his real mission. While he did find prevention and treatment topics boring, he really wanted to try to talk to some of the students. While the police and the school administrators meant well, they were adults. While Kim was a fellow teen, she was also a heroine and a celebrity. Ron was betting that he, with a lack of authority and fame, would have a better chance of finding things out than Kim or an adult.

Looking around, Ron spotted Mat Soley and went to have a word. The all-state linebacker was a real trash-talking jerk during a football game but he was a good guy once the game was over, if perhaps a bit boisterous. After the two athletic rivals greeted each other, Ron asked if Mat had time to speak. Mat said that he had the time and led the Middleton student to hallway, which was out of the main traffic.

"Mat, do you know anything about a drug called Pump?" Ron asked, without preamble.

"Not really," the bigger boy answered, blinking a little in thought. "Wait a minute, does this have anything to do with the police and ambulance over by the abandoned wing?"

"Yeah," Ron answered.

"I heard that one of the girls freaked at cheerleading practice this morning," Soley mused. "And that she had taken out two other cheerleaders in a fight. Nobody's saying much more about it. Who was it?"

"I'm not saying," Ron replied. Mat looked a little irritated about that.

"Look," Ron said, "It could have been your sister. If it was, wouldn't you appreciate everyone keeping their mouths shut?"

"I don't have a sister," Mat answered. "But I get the idea. Why do you need to know?"

"A girl, who weighed maybe one-ten, just hit me as hard as you did out on the field," Ron informed him. "Now she's in the hospital, facing what could be a rough session to get herself unaddicted."

"Is unaddicted even a word," Mat asked, with a slight smile.

"I really don't care right now," Ron started.

"I get the idea," Mat interrupted him. "I haven't heard any names, but there's been a little talk in the locker room about a great, new…appetite suppressor. It's supposed to keep you from getting hungry, pump up your energy, and make you feel happier."

Ron nodded; most amphetamines seemed to have an appetite suppressing side effect and wrestlers would be likely targets for this effect.

"Now, I'm a heavyweight, so I don't have to cut the pounds," Soley continued. "But I hear guys talkin', y'know? I don't say much, since I don't want to rat anybody out."

"I'm not asking for people's names," Ron assured him. "At least, not students. I'm just worried. Today was the first time I've ever had to choke out a fellow teen and I really didn't much care for it."

"I keep forgetting that you go out on those missions," Mat admitted. "You're used to throwing down with the big boys but you really don't like smacking down a teenaged girl?"

Ron just gave him a stern look.

"Okay, tell you what," Mat offered. "I'll keep listening and if I hear anything more, I'll send you an email, but I'm not going to rat anybody out."

"Fair enough," Ron accepted. "But you're going to have to decide if 'ratting somebody out' is the best thing to do for them."

By the time Mat finished writing down Ron's email address, Kim came out of the office. Team Possible returned to Middleton to finish the school day.

* * *

"We have just left Irish air traffic control," Shego, in the guise of Lieutenant Godfrey informed the pilot. "We have an eastbound aircraft ahead of us. If we both maintain current course, they pass eight kilometers to the south of us and five hundred meters below us."

"I'm changing course five degrees to the north," Captain Creel announced, executing a slow, gentle turn. "Why miss by eight when you can miss by twenty?"

"Roger that, captain," Shego confirmed. Shego spotted the other aircraft and, unnoticed by her pilot, flashed the landing lights twice. The other aircraft flashed its landing lights three times. Lieutenant Godfrey, still unnoticed by her pilot, turned slightly and nodded to the flight engineer. The flight engineer made some small adjustments to the passenger deck's environmental controls.

"Flight deck to the passenger deck," Shego announced over the intercom. "We may experience some turbulence here. Hang on."

"Roger that," the answer sounded rather slurred.

"What are you talking about?" Captain Creel demanded, only to be silenced when the flight engineer clamped a stinking cloth over his face.

Captain Creel was neither foolish nor weak. He held his breath and fought to pull the hands off of him. His copilot struck him with a very precise blow to his solar plexus, driving the air out of his lungs. He wasn't able to help himself, he instinctively inhaled again, sucking the cloth's vapors deep into his lungs. His last sight was of his copilot placing a small mask over her mouth and nose.

Shego switched all controls to the copilot's console while Monty restrained the pilot and increased the cabin's air exchange rate. The other aircraft flew up on her port side, close enough for her to see the occupants. She held up one hand in a 'thumb's up' gesture, until one of the other aircraft's crew returned it. She then held up three fingers, then two, then one, then, as she pulled down her last finger, Monty threw another switch at the flight engineer's console. Her aircraft and the other had just exchanged transponder responses. With a final wave, the other aircraft banked, assuming the U.N. aircraft's previous course while Shego set course south, and a little east.

Fiske took the pilot's seat and Shego transferred control back to him.

"You'll be okay up here?" Her question was slightly distorted by the mask covering her nose and mouth.

"I wouldn't want to try to land this aircraft," Monty informed her. "But I'm perfectly capable of keeping it on course. You are much better suited to deal with our guests in the back, even with the gas that we've subjected them to."

Shego nodded and opened the cockpit door. Only two of the four guards were still on their feet, and these were barely functional. The mercenary quickly overpowered the two guards before hauling the unconscious Dr. Drakken into the cockpit and securing him to the flight engineer's seat. She then dragged Captain Creel back into the passenger compartment and secured all of the U.N. personnel to seats, using metal handcuffs. Then she returned to the cockpit and took over control from Monty, who set about venting the entire aircraft. Shego had just calculated and set course for their new destination when Drakken began to stir.

"Wha…where am I? What happened?" The blue-skinned villain asked nobody in particular.

"You have just been liberated," Fiske informed the man. "You are currently in the cockpit of your prisoner transport, fleeing to a safe haven."

"Monkeyfist?" Drakken gasped. "You look…different."

"Much has changed since your incarceration," Fiske informed him.

"Well, if I've been liberated, why are my hands tied?"

"Merely a precaution, my friend," Fiske told him, producing a set of shears and cutting his bonds. "Some individuals thrash about when regaining consciousness, a most distressing tendency when close to an aircraft's controls."

"Good point," Drakken admitted, rubbing his liberated wrists.

"If you could remain patient for a few moments, I will arrange for a full situational update." Fisk returned to the pilot's seat and took control of the aircraft. The copilot's seat spun around to reveal…

"Shego…" Drakken gasped, leaping to his feet. Shego was quickly on her feet, as well.

'Well," Drakken drawled, visibly regaining control of his emotions. "It's good to see that you were able to spring me before my date with Old Sparky."

"I always do what I'm paid to do," Shego informed him, pride evident in her voice.

"_To heck with it,"_ she thought. She sprang forward and caught him in a powerful hug. Dr. Drakken swore several of his ribs buckled.

"Drew, it's good to have you back," she growled.

* * *

"So, I'll be a staff scientist for a year, working off my Liberation Fee?" Drakken confirmed.

"Exactly," Shego informed him. "It was the best deal that I could make." Her eyes narrowed at her blue, former employer. "I really doubt that you could have come up with anything better."

"Quite right, Shego," Drakken was quick to agree. "My new…er…benefactor should be here within an hour to pick me up?"

"That's the agreement," Shego drawled.

Shego, Monty and Drakken had just finished a blessedly boring flight to Morocco. Now they sat in a hanger, at the Casablanca Anfa airport. The U.N. flight crew remained secured inside the refueled aircraft.

"What will become of the crew?" Drakken asked. "While I'm not going soft about being evil, I don't want additional murder charges on my head."

"We will fly them, on this aircraft, to a desert airstrip," Shego informed him. "From there, we'll be traveling by ground transport. A time-lapse lock will release them two hours after we leave them. At that time, they will be able to fly the aircraft back to Europe. By then, we'll be long gone."

"Where will you be going?" He asked, almost plaintively.

"It's better for all of us if you don't know," she informed him. "I've done the best that I could for you Drew. You took most of the blame on yourself, like we planed, but it took me awhile to spring you and I needed help."

"That's quite alright," he assured her, once again. "To be honest, I was most concerned about you. When I heard that you had been shot, I…just didn't know what to do anymore." He slumped in his seat, hanging his head. "I'll be honest, Shego. Over the years, I've come to view you as more than an employee, even a most valuable employee. I've started to consider you a friend, almost family. The fact that I find you alive, well and, I daresay, happy, has truly been a load off of my conscience…such as it is."

For once, Shego didn't have a sarcastic retort. She was actually shocked by the amount of weight the man had lost. She knew that the various U.N. authorities wouldn't allow him to be mistreated, he had simply given up while in prison.

"I hope that I'm not too bold to suggest we attempt to…reunite…after my term of service is complete," he suggested, shyly.

"Hey doc, I'm looking forward to it," she informed him. "I haven't had the chance to do some really good mocking since that night at Bueno Nacho." Her heart soared to see the ill-concealed grin on his face.

"Anyway," she continued, in a much more serious tone of voice. "I think we've got to do some rethinking about the way we do things. No more all out-attacks on the whole world, okay? I'll work with you if you want to build some doomsday machine and extort the world. I'll help you build death rays and hold people hostage; just no more worldwide invasions, okay? We make too many enemies that way."

"And it's poor business," Drakken assured her. "From now on, I'm going to be more about the bling than the bang." Shego shook her head at his attempt to be hip. "Anyway, would you mind if I spoke to your current partner for a few minutes, in private?"

"I guess so, just no plotting against me."

Shego wandered away and Fiske approached Drakken a few minutes later.

"How can I be of service?" the former Monkeyfist asked him.

"Let me be quite blunt," Drakken started. "I suspect that you and Shego have formed much more than a professional relationship, am I correct?"

"I believe that this is a matter between me and the lady," Fiske protested.

"We don't have time for this, Monty," Drakken snapped. "My new employer will be here shortly and I will have to leave. Now, you may consider me some sort of…rival, but I assure you this is not the case. I have come to view Shego as family, either a daughter or a sister. So, please, are the two of you…involved?"

"Yes," the rogue nobleman admitted. "What of it?"

"What of it?" Drakken looked incredulous. "Monty, let me tell you something right now. That young woman has been with me through a great deal during these last few years and this is the first time that I've ever seen her happy."

"But surely there have been others," Fiske protested. "I mean, she's said so herself."

"Yes, I know all about her…vacations," Drakken answered. "She was clever enough to shift the bills to my credit card. Be that as it may, I want you to take care of her. With the possible exception of my mother, I care for her more than anybody on the face of this world."

"Take care of her," Monty was stunned. "What do you mean? If there's anybody who's the epitome of self-reliance it's She-"

"I don't mean that!" Drakken snapped at the younger man. "She's always had it together, so to speak, but she's always needed, but never had, someone to share her triumphs with. She's chosen you for this role, don't let her down."

"I have no intention to," Fiske assured him. "But I'm forced to admit that our…lifestyle isn't exactly conducive to long term relationships."

"I know that, Monty, just…whatever you do, do right by her," Drakken pleaded. "Now, I suppose she's told you about her…reproductive limitation?"

"Indeed," Fiske informed him.

"There's a fairly simple answer to it," Drakken explained for a few minutes.

"That straightforward?" Fiske demanded. "Why didn't you inform her?"

"Because I was shallow and selfish," Drakken admitted. "It comforted me to know I was withholding information she may want. By telling you, I've placed much of her future in your hands." Drakken took another deep breath, "Monty, I've never had a wife, never had children and I probably never will. This feels very much like I suppose a father feels when talking to his daughter's fiancée, so I'm pleading with you to look out for her. She's the most amazing person on the planet but she used to be the loneliest, as well. Don't let her down, don't turn your back, please, do your best by her! If you don't…"

Further conversation was interrupted when several men, wearing expensive yet functional, suits, walked into the hangar.

"Doctor Drakken, it's time for you to come with us," the leader informed him, in a polite, yet firm tone.

"Be well, Drew," Shego returned and embraced him again. "You know, I could see if I could become part of this deal, working with you during your sentence."

"No, you belong with Monty," Drakken said, feeling a sudden moment of inspiration. "If you leave with me, you'll regret it. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow, but soon and for the rest of your life."

"Now you're mocking me, aren't you, Dr. D?" There were actually tears in Shego's eyes.

"A first time for everything," a grinning Drakken assured her. "Maybe it's just the city we happen to be in right now. Monty, remember what we talked about."

Without further comment, Dr. Drakken turned and left with the new arrivals.

* * *

_A/N: Well, a couple of plot twists are out of the bag. Thanks to everyone who's taken the time to read this little story. I have appreciated the reviews, both positive and negative, as they help me determine where I need work in my writing. So, thank you to everyone who's taken the time to review and/or PM. _

_Big thanks, again, to Joe Stoppinghem, the ever-patient Beta to this ongoing, twisted tale._

_Until my next update, best wishes:_

_daccu65_


	33. Meetings and Dates

Chapter 33: Meetings and Dates

Monique walked into the Upperton High Gym and looked for a place to sit. She really didn't need to worry about it; cheerleading competitions weren't exactly heavy on the spectators. The event's timing, early on a Saturday morning, assured that not even hormones would force many teenaged males to show up and watch. Looking for a familiar face, she was only moderately surprised to spot Ron. Heading in his direction, she couldn't help but smile. Hormones were one thing, friendship was quite another; add the two together and you could find even a self-proclaimed lazy boy showing up to watch his BFPF on a Saturday morning.

"Hey there, ring-boy," Monique greeted her friend.

"Hey, Monique," he returned the greeting, rising to his feet at etiquette demanded. "I'd have expected you to be at Club Banana this morning."

"The manager decided that I wasn't having enough time to be a teenager," the teenaged fashion maven replied. "So she's insisting that I take more Saturdays and Friday nights off. Anyway, what's with the shivering?"

"I didn't realize how cold it would be," Ron admitted, hugging himself. "It's only a few miles up here, but a cold wind makes for a long trip on a bike. I hope the return trip is warmer."

"Oh, I'm sure Kim will be willing to do something about your chill tonight," she teased him, as she took her seat. "When does the Middleton squad perform, anyway?"

"Fourth, during the morning session," Ron informed her, taking his seat as well. "The first squad is scheduled to start in about five minutes."

Further conversation was drowned out by very loud music, as the Eastside High Squad took to the floor. Monique and Ron spent the next couple of hours watching the routines and listening to the music. After all of the squads had completed the morning routines, it was time for the noon break.

"Wanna catch up with Kim?" Monique asked Ron, as the two teens got up and walked towards the lobby.

"No can do," Ron informed her. "Mrs. Johnson keeps the squads together and only allows them to talk to their 'rents during the breaks. She doesn't want any distractions until the competition is finished."

"I guess that makes sense," she conceded. "So what now?"

"The judges will compile their scores from the morning session," Ron explained. "This afternoon, the squads will do their **really** intense routines, starting with the lowest scoring squad. After that, there's the awards presentation."

"So what do we do in the meantime?" Monique asked.

"We've got about forty-five minutes to kill," Ron informed her. "Care to join me for lunch?"

"My pleasure. Where do you want to-" Monique was interrupted when they were approached by another teen.

"Ron," Mat Soley greeted the blonde boy. "The kid who runs Possible's website told me that you'd be here. I've heard some more and thought you'd want to…" he spotted Monique, "hello."

"Uh, hi," Monique replied. "I d-don't think we've met, I'm Jonique Menkins, I mean, Jenkique Monkins, I-I.." her voice faded away.

"Sat Moley," Mat introduced himself. "I mean, Sole Matley." Mat was obviously having the same vocal problems that Monique was experiencing.

"Mat," Ron interrupted, managing to suppress his snicker long enough to help out his friend and his competitor. "I'd like to introduce you to Monique Jenkins, a very close friend of Kim and mine. Monique, this is Mat Soley, one of the finest, high school linebackers to be found."

"Hi," both Mat and Monique managed to stammer, simultaneously. Both sort of stared at each other, obviously not wanting to do anything but hoping the other one would.

"Monique and I were about to go out and grab a bite," Ron informed the other boy, hiding his smile. "Would you care to join us?"

"Yeah," Mat nodded. Then he shook his head and the glazed look left his eyes. "I wanted to talk to you about what happened yesterday."

"Go ahead," Monique spoke up. "I'll just go powder my nose." She left to find a lady's room while the two boys went to the men's room.

The men's room proved to be deserted, so Mat felt comfortable talking.

"I've managed to find out a little bit more," Mat repeated, once they had made sure that they were alone in the room. "First of all, some of the guys are calling that new appetite suppressant 'Pump.' I managed to get one of the guys who've used it, and I'm not saying his name, to tell me what it does. He says that it comes in pills, it takes away your appetite, kills pain, gives you some energy, and makes you feel happier."

"Sort of a wonder drug, huh?" Ron grumbled.

"He wasn't really pushing it," Mat countered. "He was embarrassed to admit that he used the stuff. Anyway, he says that he learned about it from one of the gymnastics girls and he buys it from her. He doesn't use it very often, maybe once or twice a week, whenever he gets really hungry."

"I appreciate you tracking this down," Ron thanked him. "Do you know if anyone's gotten nervous about what happened yesterday?"

"That's another thing," the big, Upperton student admitted. "I really had to work to find anybody to admit to taking this stuff after that spectacle, yesterday. The police have really been looking into it. The student rumors say that Janine overdosed and went postal, without a gun."

"I don't really know what made her snap," Ron admitted. "But she told me that she had used Pump. I'm not going to tell you any more about her, since she might be embarrassed, but I think it was the drug that pushed her over the edge."

"That's cool," Mat agreed. "If it was my sister, I wouldn't want you talking, but I have some other questions."

"What?"

"That Monique girl," Mat asked. "Does she have a boyfriend?"

"Not unless she got one in the last 24 hours," Ron answered, working hard to keep from smiling.

"What's she in to?"

"Well," Ron mused. "She's a fashion genius, she likes the GWA, even though she's a Pain King fan, she's also one bondigity dancer."

"Wicked!" Mat seemed to approve. After pausing for Mat to comb his hair and straighten out his shirt, the two boys returned to the lobby to meet up with Monique.

"You're the native," Ron said to Mat. "Do you have any place to suggest?"

"How about Henry's?" Mat suggested. "It's pretty much a teen hangout and they have a pretty good salad bar, so you should be able to find something, Ron."

"Good thinking," Ron approved. "Where's it at."

"Tell you what, why don't you lead and we'll follow you," Monique suggested. "I'll give Ron a ride so he doesn't freeze any worse than he already has."

"It's really not all that co…Ooooff!" Monique's elbow in Ron's ribs silenced him.

"Sure," Mat agreed. "I'll meet you at the exit, I'm in the blue pickup."

"See you there….eiyeouw," Ron squawked as Monique dragged him off towards her car. As soon as they were out of the door, and more or less alone, she grabbed the front of his shirt and slammed him up against a wall.

"Why didn't you tell me you would be meeting a hot guy here?" She demanded, in a loud whisper.

"Ow! First of all, I wasn't planning on meeting him," Ron told her, rubbing the bruise forming on the back of his head. "Secondly, I'm not wired that way, so I didn't know that he was a hot guy."

"Never mind that!" She snapped. "Does he have a girlfriend?"

"I don't know," Ron admitted. "He did ask if you had a boyfriend."

"REALLY!!" Monique's face had become absolutely predatory. "What did you tell him?"

"That you didn't, as far as I knew."

"Well what are we waiting for?" She demanded. "We've got to meet him!!"

"Monique, whoa! You're jacking my shirt!"

Ron's protests went unheeded as the African-American beauty hauled him forcefully to her car. It only took a few minutes to follow Mat's pickup to the aforementioned establishment. Soon, the three teens were enjoying a nice meal and idle conversation. While Ron was no relationship expert, it was clear to him that Monique and Mat were trying to get to know each other a little better. Ron took a deep breath and made a bit of a move.

"We're going to have to be heading back to see the afternoon routines soon," he said, noting both of his companions' disappointed expressions. "Would you care to join us, Mat?"

"I'd love to," the Upperton boy muttered. "But I have to help my folks this afternoon."

"Oh," Ron nodded. "How about later?"

"What do you mean?" Mat asked.

"Well, one of the dance clubs in Middleton is having an 'under 21' night tonight and Kim and I are planning on going. Maybe you and Monique would like to join us?"

"Sure!" Both Monique and Mat exclaimed, at the same time. Both looked at each other, then down at their plates, blushing slightly. Ron smiled and told Mat how to get to the place, then arranged for them to meet at eight that night. A few minutes later, Mat left to go home and Monique and Ron left to return to the competition.

"Alright, blondie," Monique snapped at Ron, as soon as they left the café. "What were you thinking, setting the two of us up like that?" The girl demanded, grabbing his shirt and slamming him against another wall. Ron managed to hit the same spot on the back of his head that he had the last time.

"Hey!" He protested. "Either one of you could have said no." He rubbed the back of his head. "The two of you seemed interested and a double date's a good way to get to know each other."

"I do NOT need you working on my social life," Monique snarled at him.

"Fine, I'll look him up and call it off," Ron offered.

"NO!" Monique bounced him off the wall yet again, making flashbulbs go off behind his eyelids. "I'll take it from here. Just don't embarrass me at the dance, okay?"

"Uh, sure," Ron managed to squeak out as Monique dragged him back to her car.

Ron didn't dare say a word to her for the rest of the day. In silence, the two watched the afternoon routines, which included mascots. They both cheered when Middleton took first place, but didn't speak to each other. Finally, with the competition over and the audience mingling with the competitors, Monique addressed him again.

"I'll talk to Kim tonight," Monique told Ron. "I'm heading home to get ready."

"But Monique," he protested. "It's only a half-hour drive back to Middleton and we're not meeting for another four hour-" Her glare silenced him. "I'm shutting up now."

"Good, see you there."

With that, Monique was out the door, leaving Ron to speak to Kim. Shaking his head slightly, the blonde boy climbed down the bleachers to the gym floor, where the Middleton squad was celebrating their victory.

"Ron!" Both Tim and Jim yelled, at the same time.

"Did you see us?" Asked Tim.

"Do you think we're as good as you were?" Asked Jim.

"We didn't expect you to be here!" They both exclaimed, together.

"Mr. Stoppable," Mrs. Johnson interrupted, before Ron could answer the twins. "It's good to see that you're still interested in the squad."

"Thank's Mrs. J," Ron replied. "The squad's great, like it always is, but I have to admit that I'm here mainly to see a certain redhead."

"Ron, that's so sweet," Liz squealed at him rushing the blonde boy and enfolding him in a massive hug.

"Liz! I, uh," Ron stammered, trying to disengage himself.

"I'm playing both of you," Liz admitted, releasing Ron and smiling at both him and Kim. Kim just shook her head and stepped forward to collect her own, much warmer, hug from her PF.

"You still up for the dance club tonight?" Ron asked her.

"Sure am," she assured him. "I can't wait to try out some of my best moves on my BFPF."

"Yeah," Ron was just a little nervous. "I kinda turned it into a double."

"Oh," Kim smiled. "Cindy and Oscar?"

"No."

"Yori and Felix?"

"No."

Now Kim looked a little confused. "Tara and Josh?" She tried.

"No," Ron informed her. "Monique and Mat."

"Monique and Mat!?" Kim gasped. "Who's Mat?"

"Monique's date for tonight," Ron informed her.

"Well, yeah," Kim whined. "But who is he? Where did she meet him? Do I know him? You've got to tell me!" Now Kim had Ron by the front of his shirt, increasing the jack job that Monique had started.

"Ladies, it's time to get ready to go," Mrs. Johnson called, sparing Ron a severe interrogation.

Ron leaned forward and gave his still-stunned girlfriend a quick peck on the cheek.

"Gotta go, KP," he smiled as he left. "I'll pick you up at seven."

* * *

Ron felt rather smug about his timing all the way home, while eating dinner, and while getting ready for his date. He still felt smug when he arrived at the Possibles' too pick up Kim. He had borrowed his mother's car, since it was cold out and the teens would be dressed a little formal for the bike. He knocked on the door, was let in by the tweebs, and spent about a half-hour exchanging pleasantries with his BFPF's family. He was still feeling smug as Kim led him out the door. Then, he realized that he was in trouble again.

"Now," Kim snarled, pinning him up against a wall, making him hit the same spot on his head that Monique had. "We don't have any distractions. SPILL! Monique's date; who, what, when, where, why?"

Ron managed to talk Kim into letting him explain as they drove to the club. "You mean he just showed up to talk to you about this drug and ran into Monique?" Kim asked.

"Yep," Ron was back to being smug. "They caught one look at each other and just started stammering. It was just like me when you wore that little black dress at the Middleton Days Festival."

"You mean Monique went into a total brain freeze and I missed it?" Kim demanded, while contemplating putting on that dress for their next date.

"Hey, she wasn't the only one, Mat seemed to go into brain-fry as well."

"I hope this works out for her," Kim told her PF. "She wasn't kidding, completely, that night after you gave me the ring. She is kind of lonely, even if she doesn't show it."

"Yeah, and I know how it feels when it seems that everyone around you has someone and you don't," Ron added, remembering when Kim was dating Josh.

"Yeah, it tanks," Kim added, remembering the time between the Diablo Incident and the make-up prom. "Ron, what do you think about me moving to the wrestling cheerleader squad? That way, we can stay together during the matches."

"I don't think that's a great idea, Kim," Ron answered, a little nervously. "I mean, you're all about the tumbles and the towers, not the kneeling chants."

"You don't want me at your matches?" Her face was edging towards a combination of pure rage and the puppy-dog pout.

"Of course I do, but I don't want you to give up the cheerleading you love to do. Besides, it's only one night a week and the occasional tournament."

"Okay, but I don't want to see any sudden turns of your head when you get that kiss at a tournament," Kim glared at him with a mock-serious expression. "If there's any lip-locking, you're going to be answering to me."

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

Minutes later, they arrived at the dance club and met Monique. Mat arrived soon after they did. The four teens had a very enjoyable time, with the only down point being that both Kim and Monique seemed tweaked that _Ron_ had set Monique up on her date. Finally, it was time to leave. It was a little earlier than usual, since Matt had the same curfew as the other teens and a half-hour drive to get home. Kim and Ron called it quits at the same time, sort of a solidarity with Monique. On the way home, the teens suddenly realized a benefit of calling off their date early; more 'goodnight' time before Ron had to go home.

Their plans for some discrete making out were dashed when they arrived at the Possible home and found Kim's parents waiting for them.

"Wade wants you to call him," Mr. Dr. P informed the teens. "He said that it wasn't something he wanted to interrupt your date about but that you would want know." With his message delivered, James Possible decided to turn in for the night.

"Thanks dad," Kim pulled out and keyed her Kimmunicator.

"Hey Kim," Wade answered. "Can you and Ron sit down for a minute."

"Oh, great," Ron muttered. "One of these."

"Yeah," Wade agreed. "Here goes; it appears that Drakken's prison transport has gone down in the Atlantic. There don't appear to be any survivors at this time."

"What!?" Kim and Ron gasped.

"It was a secret flight," Wade explained. "So I'm only finding out about it now. It left European airspace on schedule. Satellite tracking followed the transponder most of the way across the ocean. When the flight was just outside of US airspace, air traffic control picked up a mayday, then the transponder quit transmitting. Search and rescue assets are in the area but they haven't found anything yet."

"Have you been able to find out anything else?" Kim asked.

"It was a classified, UN flight," Wade informed her. "So the UN isn't giving out too many details yet. I'll compile the reports and give you an update tomorrow or earlier, if they release something big."

"Please and thank-you," Kim murmured. "You rock, Wade."

"Stadium rock," Ron added.

"Enjoy the rest of your weekend," Wade smiled at his friends. "Wade out."

"I'll tell mom and dad about Drakken tomorrow," Kim told Ron. "We have a half-hour before you need to go home, so how about you give me a proper goodnight?"

"KP, I like the way you think."

* * *

"_There is no place quite as lonely as a single's bar, when you are depressed," _This thought kept running through Marla Agile's mind as she sat in one of Upperton's more upscale establishments, tapping her half empty glass. She had already exceeded her 'call a cab' limit for the night but that hadn't helped her mood. A couple of young men had attempted to approach her but her glare had sent them right back away. She was actually surprised that they hadn't run out the door, screaming. Thus, she was surprised when a draft beer thumped down on the table, next to the remains of her latest Manhattan, and someone took the other seat.

"I don't know if you've heard, but I'm not very good company right now." She told her unseen companion.

"A good reporter loves a challenge," Marla looked up to see Warren, a competing reporter from Middleton. "Don't you remember that from journalism school, or don't you like talking to the competition when you've had one too many?"

"Of course, judging by that little stunt you pulled yesterday, that might not have been the only thing you forgot." Warren commented, when it became obvious that she wouldn't answer his question.

"Very funny," she grumbled. "If you've come here to try to pick me up, you're going about it wrong. If you're here to gloat, be my guest."

"Let me guess," Warren mused. "You're on unpaid suspension and you're wondering just what you did wrong."

"Uncanny," she grumbled, taking another sip of her drink.

"Okay, did your boss tell you what you did wrong or did he just yell?"

"The second option."

"That's one of the biggest problems with journalism today," Warren told her. "Too many bosses want the big headlines but they don't want to train their reporters to get them."

"Giving out lessons in a bar?" Marla managed to smile for the first time since Friday.

"Why not?" Warren asked her. "Neither one of us is on the clock right now."

"Okay," she set her drink down, leaned back and held her arms open. "Give me your wisdom."

"Okay, first thing, get rid of the heels and get yourself some good walking shoes."

"What?" She was wondering if the drinks were affecting her more than she had thought.

"The first thing you did wrong," Warren told her. "You're treating your job like some sort of gold rush. You think that once a week you're going to get a big break and go out and break a big story. The industry doesn't work that way. If you want to be more than a flash in the pan, you're going to have to wear out a lot of shoe leather chasing stories. You'll cover a lot of minor leads for each major one you break, but you'll get your breaks."

"Okay, fine," Marla conceded. "I'm chasing the glamour rather than the substance. What else did I do wrong?"

"I'm going to guess," her companion leaned back, cupped his chin in on hand and glanced upward. "You got a lead, either from the school or the Police Department that there was something going on at the school. You showed up and got as close as you could. When the police pulled back, you laid low and let their perimeter pass over you. Then, you spotted the subjects and moved in for your big headline."

"You're dead on again," Marla said, with a bitter chuckle. "My cameraman and I hid in a window well and climbed out after the police went by. I've seen you do similar stunts, what did I do wrong this time?"

"You tried to become the story, rather than reporting it," Warren told her. "If you had just gotten the close-up footage of Team Possible leading that girl into the ambulance, you would have been fine. If you had confronted the police about the new drug on the street, you still would have been fine. Confronting people trying to get a potentially dangerous teenager out of a tense situation, not fine."

"Yeah, but want to bet my boss would have ripped me an new one if I hadn't jumped into the scene?" She growled.

"Second rule, your boss is always going to be yelling at you," Warren told her. "It's up to you if he'll be yelling at you louder if you make the network look bad. The first amendment is generally interpreted to give us more leeway than the ordinary citizen but when we go too far, it looks a lot worse."

"Yeah but what do I do now?" She asked him, half plaintive and half bitter. "I'm damaged goods."

"You'll work it out," Warren shrugged his shoulders and ordered another beer. "You go into the office Monday and ask to spend your suspension meeting with the network's lawyers, so that you're ready to make better decisions next time. When your suspension is over, you go back to work, a little wiser for the experience."

"I just hope my new cameraman puts up with me for that long," she sipped at her drink again. "He's a real headhunter."

"Oh, someone I know?" Warren had been around the block a few times and might recognize the name.

"He just goes by the name of Pete," Marla told him, finishing off her drink and ordering another. "I'm sure that it isn't his real name. He's a smaller guy with a silly little goatee. He's the one that has the contacts, I don't know why he's latched onto me but I'm glad he has. I don't think I would have gotten the breaks that I have without him."

"Just an idle thought," Warren replied, swirling his beer a little. "Hiding in that window well to avoid the police, was that your idea or his?"

"His idea," it might have been the alcohol, but Marla was starting to feel better. "Come to think of it, he told me that it would make some real brownie points with the boss if I got the exclusive interview with those teens, right then. He's also managed to find some freelance stuff to make us some more money."

"What kind of freelance stuff?"

"Well, your little hometown hero is going to be on Rita Richards' Sunday morning gossip show in a couple of hours," Marla giggled at how clever it had been. "There's this really shy girl in the local high school. Thursday, while Middleton was playing basketball here Upperton was wrestling there. Possible's little sidekick wrestles for Middleton and the shy girl's brother had to wrestle him."

"I'm not seeing the connection," Warren admitted.

"Not quite as world-wise as you think, are you?" She shook her head. "Well, Pete figured that Possible would have some way of watching her boyfriend and suggested that I have the shy girl bring up her brother. Anyway, Possible was very friendly and let the girl watch the match on that Blackberry thing of hers. Anyway, I was watching and got some good footage of her and the girl. Richards will find a way to spin it on her show."

"But it sounds pretty innocent," Warren stated.

"Now it sounds like you were sleeping during journalism school," Marla told him, now feeling somewhat superior, herself. "The picture depends on the presentation. Rita will make it look like Possible was making a pass at the girl and will push out some innuendo about what they were really watching."

"What's that going to accomplish?" Warren was equally parts disgusted and confused.

"Higher ratings, of course," She shook her head, condescendingly. "Look, Warren, you're a good guy and all but we play to different audiences. You're aiming at the people who want to learn things. That's why you work so hard to dig out stories and try to show what your hometown hero does and goes through. I'm aiming at the viewers who want style and celebrity. My viewers don't care what Possible goes through and what she's rescued them from. They want to know how she looks and who she's dating. They don't even really care if the coverage is positive or negative. My audience will watch her get built up or tore down, with equal enthusiasm."

"You realize, of course, that your target audience constitutes a pretty small percentage of the market."

"It doesn't matter," Marla was now feeling very much better about her chosen career path. "Look Warren, you're a good guy and you've put in a lot of hard work too establish yourself as a solid, honest, dependable reporter. I'm actually happy for you. With all of the competition out there, I don't see that as being a high-percentage type of career for me. Sure, you have a larger potential audience but I have an adequate potential audience and they spend a disproportionate amount on the fashions, cosmetics and other stuff that gets advertised on the shows I contribute to. Sure, I'll never win a Peabody Award but I'll make my money and gain my fame, quickly. After all, even tainted journalists can find work, if they're famous enough."

"Is that really the path you want to follow?" Warren asked her.

"Hey, we can't all be heroic, truth-finding types."

"Well, I think I've had about enough," Warren declared, draining off the last of his beer. "Being a gentleman demands that I ask if you've already called a cab."

"Not to worry," she informed him, with a slightly disappointed smile. "The bartender has my car keys and he'll only give those keys to the cab driver. No matter how tanked I get, I'll get home safe. How about you? It's a long cab drive to Middleton."

"I thought I'd give that new 'drive you home' service a try."

"Oh, that one with all the cut-down mini-bikes? They show up, stuff the bike in your trunk, drive you home and take the bike back to their shop?"

"That's it," Warren drained his last mug and stood up. "Please think about our little conversation. I really hope you make a good career choice."

With that, Warren called the service and decided to have one last round, sitting at the bar, while he waited. While he had every intention of taking tomorrow off, he would call the station and see if the weekend crew could start putting something together to combat the hatchet job the rival station was doing on Possible. He also made a mental note to look into Pete, this mystery cameraman.

* * *

_A/N: As a couple of last chapter's reviewers noted, Mr. Wizard had already made use of a narcotic called Pump in his work, 'Nights in the Big City.' I would like to assure everybody tha I had no intention of plagerizing his work. I have already PM'd Mr. Wizard and offered to change the name of the narcotic in my story. He stated that it was perfectly fine with him if I kept the name in this work. I'd like to tip my hat, virtually, to Mr. Wizard. By the way, I read the first few chapters of his story and I fully intend to read the rest of it, when I get a chance. _

_That said, I'd like to once again thank everyone who's taken the time to read this story. While I still have a long way to go, I'm starting to see the end. I'd like to thank everyone who has reviewed or PM'd me about this little tale. While I like to think that I don't write for the reviews, I have to admit that the encouragement I receive helps keep me motivated. _

_Finally, my biggest thanks to Joe Stoppinghem, for his Beta reading._

_Until my next update, best wishes;_

_daccu65_


	34. Briefings and Interviews

Chapter 34: Briefings and Interviews

"So Drakken didn't die in a plane crash?" Ron's mind was definitely in Monday morning operating mode. "And the plane didn't actually crash at all?"

"That's right," Wade's image, speaking from the monitor in Kim's locker, confirmed. "It was a classified, UN flight so the UN didn't want to reveal very much information, even when it went missing. That caused all sorts of delays and difficulties when the aircraft reappeared."

"So when did you find out about this?" Kim asked. While she wasn't as slow as Ron, she still didn't like to start her school week with this kind of a surprise.

"Early this morning," Wade told her. "My computer woke me up with incoming information at about 2:30."

"Why didn't you tell us then?" Kim asked.

"That would be my decision." Dr. Director's image replaced Wade's on the screen. "What would you have done, Kim? While your technical expert is good, there are very competent investigative teams interviewing the flight crew and collecting evidence. There's nothing that you could do that isn't already being done, so I decided to let you remain a teenager and try to deal with the latest innuendo on the television."

Kim winced at the last statement. Rita Richards' latest burst of insinuations, backed by footage of her with Barb and accompanied by the footage of Ron subduing Janine, had been particularly vicious. Wade was trying to put together a joint press conference, with the Upperton Police Department, Upperton High School, and Barb, her brother and her parents, in order to combat the rumors.

"I am willing to divulge this," Dr. Director continued. "Shego and Fiske apparently infiltrated the flight crew. They performed a brilliant operation and freed Drakken. Now, I have other matters that require my attention. I will let Wade brief you on the remaining implications."

With that, Dr. Director's image vanished, to be replaced by Wade's.

"Do you guys have a few minutes?" He asked. "I can pass on the information that Dr. Director has freed for your use."

"OUR use," Kim corrected him. "Quit excluding yourself from the team. As for the briefing, we have time so please and thank you."

"Wait a minute," Ron interrupted, looking around. "If this stuff is eyes only and ears only for us, should you be talking to us in a high school hallway?" Ron's 'Monday morning brain' was clearly waking up.

"Not to worry," Wade smiled. "I have a dampening field set up around Kim's locker. Nobody more than two feet away will be able to understand what I'm saying."

"Uh, Wade, **I** don't understand what you're saying half the time," Ron felt obligated to point out.

"Ron, just let it go," Kim instructed her BFPF. "Let us have it Wade."

"Okay, Saturday, Drakken's aircraft took off from Holland, en route to the US. Satellite receivers tracked its transponder, on its predetermined course, until it cleared Irish airspace. Shortly after that, it made a very minor course change to the north. After a few minutes, it corrected course again, on line to its original destination. When it reached a point just outside of US airspace, before US air traffic control took authority, the aircraft transmitted a garbled mayday and the transponder quit transmitting."

"Leading everyone to believe that it had crashed," Kim supplied.

"Exactly," Wade agreed. "The US and Canadian Navy and Coast Guard started search and rescue operations, trying to find wreckage and survivors, but haven't been able to find anything. Early Saturday morning, actually Friday night here, the missing aircraft and aircrew contacted Spanish Air Traffic control. They had just taken off from Morocco and were trying to return to their base. The Spanish authorities let them land at a military airstrip, before impounding the aircraft and crew."

"Why would they do that?" Kim wondered.

"It was a secret UN flight," Ron jumped in. "I bet that the UN people the Spanish authorities contacted didn't know about the flight, so they couldn't confirm that they were operating under UN authority. The Spanish authorities probably thought that they were smugglers, or something like that."

"You got it, Ron," Wade smiled. While Ron might not have a firm grip on algebra, he had an almost instinctive understanding of bureaucracy and regulations. "This was compounded by the fact that someone, probably Shego and Fiske, smeared opium residue in the aircraft's cargo hold. The crew didn't know about it, so the Spanish authorities thought that they were playing dumb and charged them with narcotics smuggling." The young genius grimaced, "the flight crew wound up getting cavity searches."

"Which only made them more upset," Ron concluded, also grimacing.

"Okay, we're getting into TMI territory here," Kim interrupted again. "Let's keep on how this relates to us, please and thank you."

"Right," Wade shook his head to clear the bad images. "Anyway, being a weekend, it took several hours for the proper UN authorities to admit to the proper Spanish authorities that the flight did, in fact, exist. The flight crew refused to talk, since they were on a classified flight. By the time that the proper people contacted the other proper people, over 24 hours had expired."

"Which is plenty of time for Drakken, Shego, and Fiske to vanish," Kim concluded. "So now we have that bunch together again, probably plotting revenge."

"I don't think so, Kim," Wade disagreed. "One of the items that the UN has released to Global Justice, and they've told me, is that Drakken does not appear to be with the other two. The crew claims that they made an initial landing, at which point the three left the plane. Shego and Fiske got back on the aircraft and then they made a very short flight, before leaving the crew."

"Now that's a surprise," Kim mused. "What does that tell us?"

"I'm not sure," Wade admitted. "Maybe they've decided to break up their partnership."

"Or it could be just a red bearing," Ron suggested.

"Red herring," Kim corrected.

"Whatever," Ron waved it off. "It could be some trick to make us think that they've broken up the Shego/Drakken team, when they're still working together."

"That is a possibility," Wade agreed.

"Okay, but what do we do about it?" Kim asked.

"My suggestion is that we just keep on doing like we have," Wade suggested. "We've got international authorities and almost every nation's national governments looking for them. Eventually, they'll turn up and we'll respond."

"I don't like playing defense," Kim muttered. "But I don't see that we have much choice. What kind of luck have you had putting together the press conferences?"

"Still working on it," Wade informed her. "But it looks like we'll be able to do it, in one shot, at Upperton City Hall around seven tonight."

"Man, I'm glad your on our side," Ron thanked his younger friend.

"Agreed, Wade," Kim added. "You rock!"

"Thanks guys," the boy blushed. "I'll let you know if anything vital comes up. Wade out."

Ron and Kim looked at each other, with slightly pained expressions. Neither needed to speak what was on both of their minds; "_This is going to be a long, interesting Monday."_

* * *

Ed Lipsky picked up his mail as he walked into the halfway house facility in Canon City. Most of the mail consisted of the 'To Tenant' variety, of which he wasn't too fond. There just seemed to be something wrong about coming home in the morning, but his job as the night mechanic at Fred's Diesel Repair paid seriously better than the daytime shift and it kept him away from the other tenants of his current lodging.

Ed, for all of his foolishness, had never been dumb enough to become a drug addict. Sure, he liked the occasional…okay, he liked the frequent beer but he had always held the bottle rather than let the bottle get a hold of him. Most of his fellow tenants were recovering drug addicts and they gave the big man the creeps.

Most of these dudes were frail, pale, jittery shadows of people. Most of them had no real fire, no desire to do anything. They just existed from day to day, plodding along with no real hope of tomorrow being better than today. Ed just couldn't understand it; he had always had a goal in life. Sure, something like ninety-nine and three-quarters percent of the population didn't approve of most of his goals, but at least he had a goal, seriously. He knew that it sounded cliché, but his time in the slammer might have done him some good. He no longer wanted to turn the world into one big junkyard; instead, he wanted to make enough money as a mechanic to open his own demolition derby someday. Just the thought of people paying him for the chance to crash some old heaps, and other people paying to watch, set him to playing a round on his air guitar.

This was another reason that he liked coming back home while most of the other tenants were gone. The first time he seriously cranked an air guitar move, the kind of move that ended with you on your back, one of the staff members thought that he was a recovering addict having a seizure and started mouth to mouth. The dude had meant well but Ed wasn't exactly wired that way and the dude had just eaten some seriously rank seafood before coming on shift. Since then, Ed had been in the habit of making sure that he was alone before indulging his quasi-musical hobby.

Ed checked in with the house manager, who made sure that his tracking device was still securely on his ankle. This seemed seriously bogus at times but he figured that it was still less of a loss of privacy than living with his mother, or Cousin Drew's mom. Besides, the halfway house had a decent garage within range of his transmitter and that let him indulge in his current hobby, which would lead to another one of his goals.

Ed's pay went directly to the Colorado Board of Corrections, who held it in trust against his eventual, complete, discharge. The board gave him a small amount for spending money and meals and allowed him to purchase items that would enhance his marketable job skills, thereby preparing him to become a productive member of society. Since Ed wanted to become a mechanic, the Board was more than happy to allow him to purchase motorcycle parts and work on them, in the house's garage. What he was building was sure to show the skinny dude a thing or two about taking Ed's ride. Ed smiled again. Sure, the terms of his parole forced him to stay in Canon City, but the parole wouldn't last forever. Ed had a restraining order keeping him from approaching red but that order didn't say anything about staying away from skinny dude. Eventually skinny dude would wind up in Canon City or Ed would make his way to Middleton.

* * *

"..at this time, Miss Possible and Mr. Stoppable escorted the subject out of the building and to the ambulance. While outside, two suspects approached the three teens, startling the subject. The subject became violent and Team Possible subdued her while officers arrested the two suspects." Chief Hobble, Chief of the Upperton Police Department and a cousin of one of Middleton's Police officers, looked over the assembled reporters. "I would like to field questions about this incident at this time."

"Why did you call in Team Possible, rather than a police negotiator, to reason with the subject?" Asked a newspaper reporter, from Upperton.

"Two reasons," Chief Hobble replied. "First, I felt it very likely that the subject would respond more favorably to fellow teens than to adult, authority figures. Secondly, while the members of Team Possible are not professional law enforcement agents, their extensive martial arts capabilities made them more capable of handling a violent encounter, without injury, than our own negotiators. Next question."

"Chief, why didn't the police make use of non-lethal implements, rather than risk a physical confrontation?" This question came from a Lowerton television reporter.

"We suspected that the subject was under the influence of this new drug, known as Pump," Chief Hobble explained. "To the best of our knowledge, this drug affects the nervous responses, including the body's pain response. We honestly didn't know how the subject would respond to items such as tazers and pepper spray. Next question."

"I would like to direct this question to Miss Possible," a Middleton television reporter chimed in. "Why did your sidekick enter the room and confront the subject and, to follow up, was this a responsible action, given his violent history?"

"VIOLE…" Kim was ready to unleash her famous temper but Ron's hand on her elbow calmed her. "First of all, I take a great deal of offense at the suggestion that Ron has a history of violence. The only time he has demonstrated any physical violence is when he has been attacked." She took a deep breath. "To answer your questions, my _partner_, Ron Stoppable, is not as widely recognized as I am. We used this as an advantage, hoping that the subject would think that Ron was just another teen and not become aggravated. Also, Ron has more patience than me when dealing with…troubled people. We decided that he had a better chance, than I did, of convincing her to walk out of the school. As for Ron subduing her once the encounter turned violent, Ron used a technique called a carotid artery choke. This technique had a better chance of subduing the subject, without permanent injury, than the other options available to us at the time. Since Ron is better at utilizing this technique than I am, we decided, ahead of time, that he would be the one to perform it."

"Miss Possible," this time it was a cable entertainment channel's correspondent. "Could you detail your romantic interest with the girl you were seen with Thursday night?"

"I will deal with those rumors after we have answered all questions about the Friday morning incident," Kim answered. "We have a number of officials from the school, hospital, and the Upperton Police Department present with us today and I would prefer not wasting their time with false innuendoes about my social life."

"Miss Possible," now Warren addressed the teen. "Perhaps one of you would be kind enough to describe this new narcotic and the effects it has."

Chief Hobble returned to the microphone. "First of all, this seems to be a new designer drug. As such, we don't have any knowledge on its long-term effects. In fact, the only unadulterated samples we have, we took from the subject on Friday. From the state crime lab's analysis and interviews with individuals who have taken the drug, effects seem to be increased energy, reduced appetite, pain suppression and a general feeling of optimism. However, excessive use seems to also increase anxiety and aggression. This is why we suspect that the subject behaved so violently on Friday."

"What actions have the police and school authorities taken to eliminate this new threat from the school?" One of the local newspaper reporters asked.

"We have instigated a policy of random checks…" Chief Hobble began to detail his department's response as Kim zoned out, concentrating on the reporter who had asked her about her 'romantic interest.' She forced herself to recall the responses that she, Ron and Wade had rehearsed ahead of time. It wouldn't do for her to lose her temper and fuel the tabloid fires.

"…and I would like to add that we do not hold Team Possible responsible for her injuries," Janine's father was finishing addressing the gathered press. "From what we can see, Mr. Stoppable made every effort to resolve the situation peacefully. Even when the situation became violent, Miss Possible and Mr. Stoppable subdued our daughter in such a way that minimized her injuries. She received some minor cuts and bruises, which could have been very much worse."

With that, there were no more questions about the new drug making inroads into Upperton High. Chief Hobble and most of the media left, leaving Kim and Ron with the Upperton School officials, Barb, her brother and her parents to deal with the remaining reporters. Kim decided to take the initiative.

"Ladies and gentlemen," she began, stepping up to the microphone. "Now we have taken care of the very serious matter of a new drug infiltrating Upperton High, and the police and school officials' plans on dealing with it. I will assume that the majority of you have chosen to remain to hear about the supposed incident that happened Thursday night."

Kim noticed that several of the reporters, Warren among them, chuckled. Most of the remaining reporters, however, looked like they had finally woken up and were now ready to do their jobs. She chose to keep the ball in her court.

"If nobody minds, I will give my perspective of that night's events. After this, I will ask the other girl to give her perspective. After that, I will be more than happy to answer any questions."

"On Thursday night, Middleton High's boy's basketball team was playing in Upperton," she began, after nobody protested. "I am a cheerleader on the Middleton boy's basketball cheerleader squad, so I was in Upperton that night. My partner and boyfriend, Ron Stoppable," here she held up their joined hands, for emphasis. "Is a wrestler on the Middleton High wrestling team. Upperton's wrestling squad was competing in Middleton that night, so Ron was in Middleton. I had made arrangements with a friend to send me a video feed of Ron's match. Ron's opponent that night was Richard. When my friend informed me that Ron was about to wrestle, I excused myself from my squad and found a somewhat isolated place to watch the match. When I left the squad, Barb, Richard's sister, approached me and introduced herself. She told me that her brother was going to wrestle Ron and that she had to stay in Upperton, since she plays in the Upperton High School band."

Kim gave the assembled reporters a very level look before continuing. "When Barb told me her situation, I invited her to watch the match with me. At the end of the match, she thanked me and I consoled her on her brother's loss. I did not, at any time, make any sort of a romantic advance towards her nor did I show her any inappropriate material on my Kimmunicator. The only thing that we watched were two teenaged boys, engaged in a high school wrestling match." Here, Kim paused a moment, "even though I have to admit that I find one of the boys extremely cute."

Kim stepped back, accompanied by polite laughter, as Barb, Richard, and their parents approached the microphone. Ron managed to damp down his blush as the four Upperton residents confirmed Kim's initial statement. Soon they were finished and Kim took the microphone again.

"I'd like to field some questions at this time," Kim announced. "There has been some speculation about my personal life and maybe we can just settle everything once and for all."

"I guess I can start this off," Warren stood up first. "Just for the record, what is your relationship status at this time?"

"I am currently dating my best friend and mission partner, Ron Stoppable, exclusively," Kim answered, knowing that Warren had asked the question in order to let her make a statement she really wanted to. She took the opportunity to pull Ron to her side and link arms with him. She chose to not mention that she and Ron were pre-fiancées. THAT piece of news was only for their friends and family.

"So the rumors about you and Shego are false?" A network television reporter asked.

"I have never felt any attraction for Shego," Kim answered.

"Could the two of you give us a demonstration of your affection?" Another reporter, this one from a Lowerton television station, chimed in.

"Our demonstrations of affection are something between the two of us," Ron answered. "We show our affection to each other, for each other, not for public consumption."

Kim nodded in agreement.

"Once again, for the record," this time it was a celebrity magazine reporter who spoke. "Have you had an abortion?"

"No," Kim answered. "I know that there were a few people who insisted that I did, after our mission in Wyoming. I have never been pregnant, much less had an abortion."

"Mr. Stoppable," Ron was actually pleased that the Internet site host remembered his name. "Would you be so kind as to address the rumors that you are your little sister's biological father."

"I appreciate the opportunity," Ron replied. "I would like to state, right now, that I have never impregnated anybody. I am not Hanna's father. She is my little sister and I am very fond of her."

"A paternity test would put these rumors to rest, permanently," the host prompted.

"If anybody comes forward and demands such testing, as part of a legal action, I'll be more than happy to comply," Ron informed him. "At that time, I'll make the results public. However, if these rumors continue to be unsubstantiated fabrications, I will not ask my parents, Hanna's legal guardians, to subject her to such testing."

"I'm afraid that that's all we have time for," Kim addressed the crowd. "We appreciate you giving us the opportunity to address some of these rumors. However, we are still students and this is a school night, thank you very much."

The crowd broke up and Kim and Ron hopped onto Ron's bike for the trip back home. Wade had provided them with secure, radio communications in their helmets, so the two could talk on the trip.

"Do you think this press conference will do any good?" Ron asked her.

"About the drug or about the rumors?" Kim asked.

"Either."

"Okay, I think there's a little hope about the drug," Kim replied. "We have a slight chance that this might make someone divulge their source and maybe the authorities will be able to track it back to the manufacturer. Only time will tell."

"How about the rumors?" Ron prompted.

"The rumors never go away," Kim shook her head. "Maybe some of the semi-responsible magazines and television shows will let them drop, for awhile, but the really rabid bunch won't let up. When there are ratings to be earned, anything goes."

"They'll take our statements as false denials, won't they?" Ron asked.

"Yeah," Kim agreed. "I don't know if Rita Richards actually believes that tripe that she's broadcasting or if she's just doing it for ratings. Fortunately, not many people seem to believe her."

"Yeah," Ron mused. "In a nation of 300 million, of only one in ten thousand bother to tune in to her show, it's still thirty thousand viewers, and that's only in this country. It's enough to keep her on the air." Ron sighed. "KP, do you remember when it was simpler? When it was just you, me, Wade, our latest ride and helping people? Now it's the press, rumors, life and death and world conquest."

"Life's gotten complicated," Kim agreed. "But it's worth it. Back then, we were just best friends. I enjoyed being best friends with you but, I like the girlfriend thing a whole lot more. We just have to take the bad along with the good."

"Y'know KP, I wouldn't give up being your boyfriend for anything and I like the fact that we've got friends now but sometimes I wish it was just you and me again."

"Maybe it's time for a vacation," Kim declared. "Or, maybe it's time to look ahead for one."

"What do you mean?"

"Just this, what say that after we graduate, we take down the site, at least for a little while. We'll take a vacation for a couple of weeks, just the two of us. It'll be perfect; high school will be over and college will still be in the future. We won't have any responsibilities and we can just have some fun."

"I'd like that KP. I'd like that a lot."

The two of them spent the rest of the ride home wondering what they would be doing on such a vacation.

* * *

Bonnie Rockwaller watched as Kim, Monique and Cindy walked by her and stopped near the entrance to the lunchroom. Even though Kim and Ron had just had a major press conference last night, Monique seemed to be at the center of the group. The girls seemed to be questioning her about a date Saturday night. That was one thing that Bonnie didn't like about dating Junior; he was not around. Apparently, he was wanted for several international crimes and while he hadn't committed any crimes in the US, the US had extradition treaties with most of the countries that would like to have a word or two with him. As a result, Junior could only visit occasionally and couldn't stay long when he did.

What was the point of having a hot, rich, stylish boyfriend if you couldn't show him off?

Bonnie honestly couldn't understand either her rival or the head of the wrestling cheerleader squad. They were giving Jenkins some good-natured ribbing about her date; demanding details and asking when the two were going out again. Bonnie shook her head; this wasn't the way to go about it. The proper reaction to another girl dating a guy was to find out everything about him and make subtle comments about how your own boyfriend was superior. The goal of life was being on the top of the heap and a proper boyfriend was one of the items that put you on the top and kept you there.

Even though Monique had never been one of the 'power players' on the food chain, Bonnie covertly edged closer to the group and listened in. From the conversation, it seemed that Monique had had a date with a boy from Upperton. The boy was an outstanding football player and wrestler. Bonnie started to tally up a score. First of all, the outstanding athlete factor was definitely points for Jenkins. The fact that he was from out-of-town could either be a bonus or a handicap. If Monique played the 'he couldn't find a girl for him in Upperton' card, it would be points for her. On the other hand, he wouldn't be visibly with her every day, so it could be a handicap. Also, if she did start dating the guy, it would allow her to flirt with local boys.

That was another thing that she couldn't understand about Kim and Cindy, they didn't flirt around. Once you had a suitable boyfriend, some minor flirting with other suitable guys kept him on his toes. You had to make sure he knew that you'd be ready to trade up if he didn't measure up. However, neither Possible nor Grouse seemed to be doing so. How was it possible that neither girl, senior cheerleaders no less, knew the proper way of keeping your boyfriend attentive and on top of his game?

As she was pondering this, Ron, Oscar, Yori and Felix appeared down the hallway and joined the three girls. As the two groups merged into one, larger group and wandered into the lunchroom, both Possible and Grouse actually flirted with their own boyfriends. What was the point of that? While Ron and Oscar were actually pretty good guys, not that she would ever admit that in public, both boys were so smitten with their girlfriends that the flirting wasn't needed. What was the point of dangling the lure if the bass was already in the boat?

Being as discrete as she could, Bonnie trailed the group into the lunchroom and took a seat where she could overhear their conversation.

"…so you find this Mat Soley attractive?" Yori was asking Monique.

"You got it girl," Monique gushed back at her. "He has the body type that I just love and the clearest blue eyes. He's not half-bad in the fashion department, at least for a guy, but I'll be able to make some improvements."

"I have to admit, he's got some killer buns," Cindy remarked, which brought every eye at the table to bear on her.

"Oh, c'mon," she protested. "They were waggling right at my eye level during the match on Thursday! I couldn't help but notice." She paused a moment, "but it only made me realize that I had a finer set of buns already in hand…so to speak." The last remark was delivered with a fond pat on her boyfriend's shoulder.

"Nice save, girl," Monique complimented her.

"So I take it you're going to find your way to Lowerton this Saturday," Ron commented to Monique.

"I hadn't planned on it," she confessed. "What's going on in Lowerton?"

"That's where the wrestlers are competing for the quad-school competition," Ron informed her. "Mat will be there. It'll be a good place to 'accidentally' run in to him."

"What is the quad-school competition?" Yori asked.

"Every year Upperton High, Lowerton High, Middleton High, and Eastside High put on a competition between their A and B basketball and wrestling squads," Oscar explained. "Each squad has a round-robin tournament with the other three squads. This year, the varsity wrestling competition is going to be in Lowerton while the B basketball competition will be here, in Middleton."

"I might have to make it down there," Monique admitted. "You going to be there, wheels?" She asked Felix.

"No can do," he answered. "This Saturday I'm going to interview for an intern position with International Manufacturing. My flight leaves Friday evening, I'll interview on Saturday and come back that night."

"Be sure to tell us how it goes," Ron instructed him.

"There won't be any decisions made, but I'll tell you everything I learn," Felix assured his friend.

"Hey, maybe Coach Winters will let me photograph the matches," Monique suggested. "That will give me a solid reason for meeting up with Mat again."

Bonnie shook her head, taking condolence in the fact that the status quo would soon change. For all the fact that Kim's dating Ron hadn't crushed her rival's social standing, Bonnie Rockwaller was ready to make her move. She had always been second to Kim in raw cheerleading ability but that was soon to change. Sure, what she intended to do was something she never would have contemplated back when she was a freshman but desperate times called for desperate measures. With any luck, she would top Kim as a cheerleader by Christmas break. After that, she would become the squad captain. Bonnie Rockwaller would be number-one before the end of school, no matter the cost.

* * *

_A/N: I'd like to thank everyone for bearing with me. It's taken me awhile to update. Thank you to everyone who has read this tale._

_Thanks to Joe Stoppinghem, for his excellent Beta Services._

_Till next time, best wishes;_

_daccu65_


	35. Old and New Problems

Chapter 35: Old and New Problems

"What seems to be the problem, Dr. Drakken?" The man who asked the question was very nondescript. He seemed the epitome of an efficient personnel officer. However, Drew Lipsky knew that he was anything but what he appeared. An organization such as this wouldn't rely on mere administrative punishments.

"As I explained to my assistant," the blue-hued villain replied. "I refuse to work on this project."

"There seems to be some confusion," the man's voice was as calm as always. "Do you have a problem with your work conditions?"

"No," Drakken admitted. "This is certainly no torture chamber sort of laboratory. The potpourri is a nice touch." Drakken's workspace was climate controlled and well lit. His employer, for want of a better term, only expected ten hours of work a day out of him. All said, the work conditions were considerably better than his lair's.

"Is there a problem with your living arrangements?"

"Well…no," Drakken admitted again. His living quarters were comfortable and fairly spacious. There was a gym facility with a swimming pool and a hot tub. A couple of his guards were also fairly proficient at pinochle, so his leisure time was actually enjoyable.

"Is there a problem with the food?"

"No, certainly not," Drakken conceded the third point. While the menu ran a little bit close to the health food side of things, he managed to get enough sugars and fats to keep him happy. All told, life here was more enjoyable than trying to piece together a scheme of his own.

"So there is no problem," the man assured him. "As agreed, you will work on the projects we assign you, for one full year. After that, you're a free man."

"Now wait here," Drakken snapped. "That's not the point! You're coercing me to create things that my ethics just won't let me build."

"Ethics," the man showed the slightest bit of humor. "That's why we went to the extreme effort and expense, which are really the same thing, to obtain your services, Dr. Drakken. You have no ethics."

"I do now," Drakken insisted. "Look, I tried to take over the world with a violent assault less than a year ago. The only thing that I managed to do was kill a lot of people, destroy a lot of things and make just about everybody on the planet want to kill me. I won't be a part of that again."

"Now," Drakken continued, taking a calming breath. "If you put me to work on some super-ray that you can use to extort the UN, I'm down with it. If you want me to create nanobots that can destroy a city's sewer system unless they pay you some protection money, I'm the boom. If you want to develop a long-distance EMP device and bring the G7 to a third world level of technology, I'm on board as long as you promise to spare Grandma Sweetie's chocolate pudding factory. But I won't have anything to do with an all out attack."

"I think I see the problem," the man told Drakken. "You've come up against a point where your morals won't let you proceed."

"That's exactly the case," Drakken agreed. "Not that I have many morals, mind you, but I like to indulge the two or three that I still have."

"I understand perfectly," the man assured Drakken. "I'll have a few words with our benefactor and clear this all up. I will be back shortly."

"Thank you," Drakken muttered, as the man left the laboratory. Drakken reviewed the guidelines while waiting.

Drakken was forced to admit that the plan was both ambitious and obtainable. It was based upon his own Diablo scheme. Essentially, build an overwhelming army of fighting machines and unleash them upon an unsuspecting world. The difference lay in the execution. Drakken had concentrated upon secrecy, distributing a vast array of relatively weak fighting machines worldwide before acting. This plan concentrated more upon the machines themselves.

Drakken frowned at the performance specifications. The proposed machines were large, quadrupedal robots standing roughly thirty feet high. Rather than relying on a central power source, each machine would be equipped with a quantum black hole. This singularity, which Drakken had assumed to be theoretical hogwash until now, would only last for a few days, but would provide the robot with astounding amounts of power for the duration. Drakken's job had been to develop mass-producible energy weapons and power distribution systems for the machines. Some of the other systems under development made the machines truly frightening.

"Ah, Dr. Drakken," the man greeted him, re-entering the laboratory. "I've met with our benefactor and he's come to a decision."

"And what decision would that be," Drakken snarled. "I assure you that I won't change my mind."

The man stepped to one side of the door he had just entered, clearing the way for a woman Drakken had never believed possible. Her body had a greenish tint, darker than Shego's. She was quite muscular yet still feminine. The characteristic that really set her apart was that she stood roughly nine feet tall.

"Then again I'm always open to negotiation," Drakken stammered, backing up as the woman approached him.

"I'm happy to hear that, Dr. Drakken," the man informed him. "Have you noticed that when negotiating, it's best to do so from a position of strength?"

"Y-y-yes, I-I-I have caught on to that little tidbit of knowledge," Drakken stuttered as the woman backed him up against the wall. Drakken had nowhere left to retreat as she towered over him.

"That could go a long way towards avoiding anything unpleasant," the man added.

With a sudden, lightning-fast move, the woman seized Dr. Drakken by the front of his lab coat and lifted him, one-handed, into the air. Drakken was too terrified to move, as she clamped some sort of collar around his neck with her other hand. As she set him, with surprising gentleness, back on the ground, Dr. Drakken couldn't help but think that there was something familiar about her.

"Now, Dr. Drakken," the man's voice was just as calm and pleasant as it had been since Drakken had arrived here, wherever here was. "Back to our negotiations. Our benefactor doesn't expect miracles, just your best effort. He is fully aware of what you are capable of accomplishing for him. Now, tomorrow you will find a schedule on your desk. You are to meet this schedule or suffer this."

Suddenly, the collar delivered a powerful electric shock to Dr. Drakken's neck. For several endless seconds, the would-be world conqueror stiffened in agony. When the shock ended, Drew fell back against the wall and slid to the floor, his face a deeper shade of blue than it had been.

"Now you know my benefactor's position," the man told him. "You will deliver what we worked so hard to obtain, or face the consequences. I'd suggest you spend the rest of today relaxing and regaining your focus. Get a good night's sleep tonight, and review the schedule tomorrow. I'm sure you'll want to get an early, energetic start on Monday."

The man and woman left and Dr. Drakken stumbled to his living quarters and did as he was told. Somehow, someway, he would find a way to turn the tables.

"Mr. Loward," Amy addressed her benefactor, walking into his office. "I have assisted your…personnel manager in providing Dr. Drakken with proper motivation."

"It's Warrick, please," the industrialist insisted. "Did the bad doctor recognize you?"

"I don't think so," Amy smiled. "He looked at me closely but I don't think he knows who I used to be."

"I've been thinking about my own transformation," Warrick informed her. "I think it would be best if we performed this procedure around the New Year. I still have some people to meet, so it would be best if I remain human for the time being."

"What sort of people?" Amy asked.

"This young man, for one," Warrick gestured towards his computer screen. Amy looked and saw a slender, brown-haired teenager working on a robotic arm.

"Why are you looking at a teenager?" Amy asked.

"He is a robotics genius," Warrick explained. "Have you ever considered how we will rule the world once we obtain control of it?"

Amy shook her head.

"We will need people like this young man, geniuses in their field. I intend to make him an offer and mold his career. I'm sure that I can convince him."

"I don't like the idea of placing the collar on a mere boy," Amy confessed.

"You won't need to, my dear," Warrick assured her. "Please see to our ongoing projects. I'm going to meet with young Mr. Renton."

* * *

Felix completed the assembly then calculated the arm's lifting strength. He was honestly expecting tests such as this, so he had been prepared. Completed with his test, he looked up and realized that he had used just over half of the allotted time. He turned the arm and the calculations into the test administrator. The administrator directed him to the employee's lounge to wait for the results. The lounge was equipped with a play station, so while it wasn't exactly like playing against Ron and Rufus, it made the time go by fairly quickly.

Roughly half an hour after Felix retired to the lounge, the administrator called for him to return to the testing office. There, the administrator informed the teen that he had impressed everyone and that he would shortly be meeting with Mr. Loward.

"I'll be honest," Felix told the administrator. "I wasn't expecting to meet with Mr. Loward himself! I thought that he hadn't made a public appearance in months."

"He hasn't, Mr. Renton," the administrator informed the boy. "But he's reviewed your results and would like to meet with you, personally. You will receive your official request to intern with us, in the next week or so. However, Mr. Loward wants to meet with you to discuss associating with us beyond that time."

"When would he like to see me?" Asked Felix.

"Immediately, if you agree."

"Of course!"

The administrator smiled and led the boy through International Manufacturing's testing wing and into the administration wing. After being allowed through a few security points, they found themselves standing outside a nondescript door that bore the nameplate 'Mr. Warrick Loward.'

"Be yourself in there," the administrator advised Felix. "It was you who made Mr. Loward interested in obtaining your services, so don't act like someone else, now. Your genius speaks for itself."

Felix nodded.

"Here is where I'm going to leave you," the administrator informed the boy. "The door will open in a few minutes. Just go in and introduce yourself. Good luck, and I honestly hope to run into you, with you wearing an employee's pass, in a few years time."

Felix thanked the man then sat back to wait the door. It wasn't long before it swung open, revealing what looked more like a large, comfortable den than an office. Felix rolled in and stopped in front of the desk. There was a high-backed chair behind the desk, facing away from the boy. The occupant, hidden by the chair's back, was apparently watching a monitor on the wall.

"Mr. Loward?" Felix prompted. The chair rotated slowly around to reveal the world's most influential industrialist.

"Mr. Loward!" Felix gasped. "I was expecting…"

"You were expecting me to be relying upon a speech synthesizer and unable to move," the man finished for the boy. He smiled, "please forgive me my amusement at subjecting you to this surprise. I have benefited from a new medical treatment…but more on that later. Mr. Renton, I'm very impressed with your abilities and potential. Now, why don't we discuss your future and how I hope that International Manufacturing can be a part of it?"

"Certainly."

"I'm certain that you're used to people complimenting your intelligence," Mr. Loward began, standing up and gesturing Felix to join him at table, which held an assortment of beverages. "Instead of going over this ground again, I thought I'd let you know how I handle the geniuses that work for me, so that you can decide if you like the idea of this kind of treatment."

"That makes sense to me," Felix agreed, successfully keeping the shock he felt when Mr. Loward stood and walked from showing on his face. He was delighted when he discovered that the table was high enough for him to roll up close to it. He selected a cola when Mr. Loward poured himself a cup of coffee.

"Very well, Mr. Renton," the industrialist sat back and looked at the young man. "Industrialism is, at the heart of things, a very simple enterprise. You build things and sell them for more than it cost you to build them. When you start to factor in the real world, things become complicated."

"To simplify this again, these real world factors dictate that whomever builds the right things most efficiently will be able to sell them," Warrick Loward continued to explain. "This means that if I can hire someone who helps me build things faster, cutting that crucial time between concept and production, I make sure that these people share in the financial rewards."

"Now, Mr. Renton, I have given myself an advantage that most other industrialists don't have," the man expanded, after taking a sip of coffee. "First, I've bought out almost all of the shareholders. This means that I own this conglomerate almost as completely as a farmer owns his family farm. As a result, I don't have to satisfy a small horde of shareholders; I pretty much determine where the profits go. Where these profits go, Mr. Renton, is to the employees that really make me better."

"Don't get me wrong, young man," Loward continued. "My factories are full of people that do the job they have been hired to do; no more, no less. On the other hand, there are those people who make this undertaking the greatest in the world. I pay these people based upon the production they provide. I have laboratories full of brilliant men and women who don't make an hourly salary but receive a generous percentage of what they allow me to earn."

"Uh, Mr. Loward," Felix interrupted. "I'm only eighteen. I don't think I'm ready to make that kind of a decision."

"Indeed you aren't," Loward agreed. "Even these brilliant researchers started as hourly wage employees. I honestly see you taking this career path, eventually, if you work for me. Now, my other point is that not all of the compensation I offer is monetary. These same researchers are free to use their laboratories and manufacturing facilities for personal projects, in their free time. These men and women have some very interesting home appliances, I can say that for sure."

Felix shared a chuckle with the man as they enjoyed sips of their respective drinks.

"This is something else I wanted to discus with you, Mr. Renton," Loward told him. "You did an admirable job of hiding your surprise, when you saw that I was able to speak and walk. This is an advantage of being wealthy, Mr. Renton, I can finance cutting edge, experimental medical research. Obviously, one of these researchers finally came through with what I wanted."

"How did you manage it?" Felix couldn't help himself. "Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis isn't supposed to be curable."

"It isn't," Loward told him, "By conventional means. I found a researcher who was willing to delve into genetic manipulation. This researcher was able to adjust my genetics and reform my body into what it should have been. This is what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Mr. Loward," Felix said, firmly. "I'm not about to submit to genetic manipulation. There isn't enough research on the topic and I'm doing pretty well."

"Indeed, Mr. Renton," Loward nodded. "Bear in mind that I didn't have much choice. The disease would have killed me if I hadn't taken such actions. You don't have such a dire threat hanging over you, so you are going to be, understandably, reluctant. However, you are not the only one affected by your accident."

"My friends and family are cool with my chair," Felix insisted.

"I have no doubt that they are," Loward sympathized. "But that is for right now. Mr. Renton, I'm comfortable talking to you about your condition, since I was once in a much worse state than you are now. So, at the risk of sounding like a stalker, you became confined to a wheelchair after a childhood accident, didn't you?"

"Yes," Felix answered, remembering the day he had fallen out of the tree and his back had encountered the branch.

"I understand that your body does not function below the waist level," the man prompted.

"This is true," Felix admitted.

"Now, you've managed to form a strong group of friends, and you've even managed to wind up with a girlfriend, haven't you?"

"Yes," Felix was starting to feel uncomfortable with the conversation's direction.

"Very well, Mr. Renton. Have you thought about her feelings? You are stepping away from being a boy and are becoming a young man. You are going to have adult responsibilities and relationships soon."

"Look, Mr. Loward," Felix was feeling almost angry. "We're not like that."

"I'm not talking merely about the act, Mr. Renton," Loward informed him. "Think about her and her future. While you're only eighteen, don't you think that this young lady might want a complete relationship? What if she's thinking about children in her future? If the two of you don't stay together, don't you think that it's likely that you will date again, and this next lady might want both the physical relationship and the children that such a relationship produces? Is it right of you to deny any woman this when she chooses to establish a relationship with you? And what about your mother?"

"What about mom?"

"I'm willing to bet that she hasn't had a strong social life since your father passed away, am I correct?"

"No," Felix admitted. While the U.S. hadn't suffered many casualties during the first Gulf War, Frank Renton had been one of them. His mother hadn't so much as gone on a luncheon date since then.

"By denying yourself this treatment, you are also denying her grandchildren. Don't you think she would want her husband's legacy to continue?"

"But what about the risk?" Felix asked.

"We can meet again, near the holiday season," Loward assured the young man. "Judge for yourself if I have suffered any ill effects and consider my employment offer."

Felix Renton found himself with a great deal more on his mind, during his return trip, than he would have ever imagined possible.

* * *

"So how did the tournament turn out at Eastside?" Monique asked her best friend. Kim, Monique, Ron, Felix, Yori, Cindy and Oscar had met up, at the Possible residence, on Sunday afternoon, too discuss the previous day.

"Middleton took second to Upperton," Kim told the rest, even though they had probably already either read a newspaper or listened to a radio. "How did it go at Lowerton?"

"We took first," Cindy informed her fellow cheerleader, with a poorly concealed smirk. "Oscar and Ron both won all three of their matches."

"So why the odd looks at Ron?" Felix asked. The boy had seemed rather troubled when he arrived, but he still picked up on everybody's body language.

Ron simply muttered something incomprehensible and refused to meet anybody's eyes.

"What was that?" Kim caught his face and forced him to look at her.

"Let's just say that your PF hasn't completely outgrown his wardrobe malfunctions," Monique snickered.

"There's no way that a wrestling uniform can fall down," Kim protested.

"True, but it can rip," Cindy giggled. Oscar seemed unable to speak.

"You don't mean…" Kim looked at Ron with a mixture of amusement and fear.

"First match of the day," Cindy chimed in. "Second period, he's just scored the reversal and he's got a arm-bar chicken-wing combination on the guy and he's driving him over. The guy's fighting it, Ron spreads his legs while he's straining and rrrrriiiiiipppp."

"Oh, no," Kim looked at Ron with some sympathy. "How bad was it."

"Girl, you know how untanned this boy is," Monique took over. "That uniform ripped wide open right across his glutes. With that dark purple uniform, it looked like two bits of buttermilk biscuit dough popping out of a can."

"It wasn't that bad," Ron protested.

"They had two mats going at the same time," Oscar told the redhead. "And a big spotlight on over each mat. That bright light reflecting off of those untanned cheeks was blinding."

"C'mon, give me a break here" Ron complained, while everyone else was laughing.

"I was taping at the time," Monique added. "And I just couldn't help but zoom in. I'll let you see it before the school administrators have a chance to edit it."

"Please Lord, let me die now," Ron requested of the ceiling.

"Just a few minutes before the match, Lisa, one of the sophomores on the cheerleading squad, told me that she thought Ron's freckles were cute," Cindy giggled. "Ron was no more that ten feet from us when his cheeks became liberated. Lisa wound up seeing more freckles than we knew Ron had!"

Ron didn't comment; he just dropped his face into his palms.

"But that's not the best part," Cindy continued. "The best part was Ron, sitting on the mat, trying to slide back to the sidelines without making more of a showing!"

"What else was I supposed to do?" Ron demanded, decidedly pink-faced.

"We're just having some fun," Monique consoled him. "But I have to admit, from now on I'm thinking of that uniform as the BUNny suit."

"Oh, can't you give it a break?"

"Tomorrow's going to be fun," Oscar added. "I heard some of the guys commenting on Ron's astronomy demonstration, while emphasizing the first syllable."

"Hey! The bad puns are my territory," Ron complained.

"Oh, don't like anyone butting in?" Cindy asked.

"Can we please find something else to talk about?" Ron pleaded.

"Okay, fine," Kim came to his defense. Looking up at Monique she asked, "How about you and Mat?"

"Oh, I spoke to the boy," Monique admitted.

"Aaand…" Kim prompted.

"We've got another date for this Saturday," Monique smiled. "At this rate, I'm going to have to apologize to Ron for jacking his shirt and bouncing him off the wall."

"What about your interview, Felix?" Ron asked. The rest of the teens suddenly looked at the boy.

"Yeah, I forgot all about that," Oscar apologized. "Here we're talking about a couple of tournaments while you were putting your future together. How did it go?"

"It went pretty well," Felix shrugged his shoulders. "I have an offer to intern over the summer and they want to put me in to assist engineers, not just be some glorified office assistant."

"That sounds wonderful," Yori complimented him. "So, as Williamsen-san says, you are building a foundation for your future."

"Yeah," Felix smiled at his friends. "I really hope everything works out for me."

The seven teens continued to talk until early evening, when it was time for everyone to head home and prepare for the new school week. Felix had borrowed his mother's van, which had been modified to allow him to drive it, and drove Yori to Mr. Yoshimuto's house. Yori, as was her habit under such circumstances, sidled up to her boyfriend in order to spend several minutes 'saying goodnight.' Felix, on the other hand, was strangely reluctant to indulge.

"Yori?" he asked her. "What kind of future do you see for the two of us?"

* * *

_A/N:_

_Again, thank you for reading the story, and thank you for everyone who has taken the time to leave a review. When I posted the last chapter, the bots were down. I would like to apologize to anybody who may have left a review, and to whom I did not reply. _

_Thanks again to Joe Stoppinghem, for his untiring work as a beta reader._

_'Till next update, best wishes,_

_daccu65_


	36. Minor Changes

Chapter 36: Minor Changes

Shego stepped out of the hatch and let the chill, desert breeze blow through her hair. After several minutes of simply enjoying the clean, dry air, she set off along the faint path towards Monty's latest dig. The false dawn provided enough light for her to follow the trail at a fast clip. It wasn't very far, but it gave her some time to choose her words, to replay the suggestion that she was going to make to her partner.

Put bluntly, it was time to leave this particular hideout.

It had been several weeks since the two of them had rescued Drakken. They had taken some time before returning to the isolated haven, taking advantage of some of Northern Africa's more…interesting marketplaces. When they returned to the lair, they were carrying some additional supplies, archeology equipment, fresh foodstuffs and, most importantly for preserving their sanity, several cookbooks. They were also towing a trailer full of jet fuel. They had arrived, exhausted, in the wee hours of the morning but Shego had insisted that they service both the SUV and the aircraft before resting. Monty hadn't argued, realizing that as hunted fugitives they needed to be able to flee at a moment's notice.

Since then, they had slipped into a comfortable, if dull and nocturnal, routine. They spent a couple hours each day maintaining the lair. They also worked out twice each day and Monty was quickly becoming capable, once again, in a fight. Monty was in the habit of spending a great deal of time working at his dig. He had set up a heavy canvas tarp around it, so that he could work all night without letting any light escape. That way curious eyes, even if there were any in this remote spot on the globe, would be unable to spot him from afar.

The duo had taken on two contract jobs, arranged by Henchco, since springing Drakken. Both had been industrial espionage jobs, one in Hungary and the other in Portugal. In both cases, Monty had shown that while he was no longer a world-class martial artist, he was a solid backup to her. He had also taken the opportunity, on both missions, to sell off some of the artifacts he had unearthed. While the money these artifacts fetched wouldn't have covered their travel expenses, it had proven a welcome addition to their payoff. Shego had been overjoyed, since Monty's talent gave them more options when it came time to relocate. She was determined to relocate within the next ten days.

The fact was that the very traits that made this haven an excellent refuge made it a crappy base of operations. The isolation meant that the duo had to devote a great deal of time to traveling to and from their capers. The only real metropolitan area within range was Sabha and the last time they had left that city, they had been trailed. Granted, they lost their followers during the nighttime drive and a windstorm had come up the next day, erasing all signs of their path, but it made Shego nervous. It had probably been an opportunistic bandit gang but Shego couldn't be sure; there were too many international agencies looking for her and/or Monty for her to take any chances.

No, the very isolation that had proven beneficial during their 'run and hide' phase was now a hindrance during their 'take contracts and make money' phase. Shego was fairly certain that her lover would see her logic. The only question was where would they go?

Shego reached Monty's hidden dig and paused outside the tarp. Since they had been trailed, albeit unsuccessfully, Monty had taken to arming himself when he left the haven. It wouldn't do to startle him.

"Monty," she called out, since there wasn't anybody else within several miles of the haven. "It's me, we need to talk."

"I'm up here," Monty's voice wafted down from the mountain's peak above the dig site. "Do join me, but keep low and quiet. We have distant, but persistent, company."

Shego clambered up the mountainside to reach what Monty referred to as his lookout station. He was in the habit of climbing to this perch and viewing the area before starting his work, each night. She idly reflected that even though he was no longer 'monkeyized', he could still climb like a freaking ape. Soon, she sat next to him near this particular peak's summit.

"We seem to have new visitors in the neighborhood," he informed her, gesturing to the north. Shego noted that the sniper rifle he had taken to carrying was in easy reach.

Shego followed his gesture, looking down onto the flatter desert beyond the mountains. The soft, pre-dawn light provided enough illumination for her to see a rag-tag handful of trucks, parked in a rough circle. Using her binoculars, which she carried with her whenever leaving the haven, she could spot tents inside the vehicle circle and a couple of armed guards keeping watch.

"How far away do you think they are?" Shego asked, forgetting proper grammar.

"I'd estimate eighteen kilometers," Monty answered. "Or eleven and one quarter miles, if you prefer. They were there when I started my night's excavations. Once I assured myself that they were bedded down for the night, I decided to continue my scholarly activities but I wanted to be here at dawn, too see what actions they would take."

"Good thinking," Shego approved. Then she decided to take advantage of their inactivity. "I'm thinking that it's about time we moved out and found another base."

Fiske approved of the idea, so the couple spent the next several minutes watching the group below them and discussing their new location. They weren't too enamored with staying in Africa, since Shego had relatively few contacts on the continent and most of Monty's contacts were of the scholarly sort. Sure, there were vast fortunes to be made in the diamond wars but Shego didn't care for that level of violence. Being in the middle of a conflict involving entire regiments just wasn't her style.

For the next half-hour, they discussed Asia, Europe, the Caribbean, Polynesia, North America and South America. All locations had their good and bad points, from a criminal's perspective of course. Finally, they settled on Central America. Shego had a safehouse in Guatemala, from which they could establish themselves. There were also numerous archeological sites, which Monty could exploit. Sure, there were monkeys there but Monty would just have to learn to deal with them. About the time they had agreed upon their destination, the group they were watching roused themselves.

"Do you think that they can spot us?" Monty asked his companion.

"No," Shego replied. "We're well concealed in the peak's rocks, and we aren't carrying anything shiny. Just don't go jumping up and down and we'll be fine."

As the two watched, the band gathered for some form of morning meal before loading the trucks and driving to the southeast.

"I suspect that they are heading for the narrow but serviceable pass some twelve kilometers to the east," Monty pondered. "I wonder if they are searching for us or are just passing through."

"Either way, we have to keep low," Shego told him. "You were smart to come up here and look around every evening and every morning. I think we better keep doing that."

"When do you want to relocate?" He asked her.

"I want to take on one more contract," Shego told him. "Four days from now. I want to clear out within 24 hours of finishing the job."

"I submit to your superior experience," Monty assured her. "I think it's time for me to cease operations at this dig site."

Shego nodded. One of the smart things that Monty had done was to drench the tarps he used to conceal his worksite, before rolling them in the local dust. As a result, the tarps blended in with the mountain perfectly until you were within two hundred meters. While that might sound like a long distance to a city dweller, the chances of someone in the desert getting that close were astronomical. However, once the tarps came down, his diggings would be much more visible, unless he concealed his excavation.

Finally, the mystery band had passed out of sight and the two watchers returned to their lair.

* * *

Kim opened her locker and pulled out the books she would need for the morning's classes. "_Just a simple boring day_," she pleaded, silently_. "Please let this just be a simple, boring, normal school day. Classes, practice, walk home with Ron, a little lip action on the front porch, dinner, homework, then some serious snuggle time_."

In the weeks since Team Possible had dealt with the Pump overdose in Upperton, they had been forced to deal with three more teens overdosing at Upperton High School and, what was more disturbing, an overdose incident at Lowerton High School. The drug was spreading. Fortunately, on a nation-wide scale, it had only showed up in the Tri-City area, Go City, and Runnerton. At first, Kim had taken solace in the fact that it hadn't appeared in Middleton but Chief Hobble had informed her that just because it hadn't appeared didn't mean that it wasn't present. Kim was forced to admit that some of her fellow students probably used the drug but nobody had overdosed…yet.

The Upperton Police Department was making extreme efforts to track down the drug's source but whomever was supplying it was always a step ahead of them. He, she, or they only sold to a dealer for two weeks before moving on to another one. This mystery supplier also avoided known dealers, preferring to work through teens who hadn't had any previous encounters with law enforcement. The only information the authorities had managed to unearth was that the supplier always wore a burly overcoat and a mask when meeting with the dealers. As for Middleton, Kim and Ron had asked all of their friends and teammates to let them know if anybody approached them and offered them a 'competitive edge' in a bottle. Kim didn't relish the idea of additional missions but it would be worth it if they could end the latest epidemic as quickly as possible.

While four such missions in as many weeks, might not sound like much, when combined with other missions, the extremely busy academic and cheerleading/ wrestling schedule, life had become hectic. Still, Kim was hopeful for the next couple of weeks. Sure, Ron had his usual, Thursday night match last night and she had cheered at a basketball game but next week was Thanksgiving week. There were no matches or cheering events until the second week of December.

"Hey girlfriend, how you holding up?" Kim looked around to see Monique leaning against the locker next to hers.

"Tired," Kim answered, honestly. "That drug has made things way busy lately."

"Yeah, but you and Ron have managed to end all of the OD issues without further violence, haven't you?"

"Yeah," Kim admitted. "But each incident just seems to take away so much time. We have to catch a ride to wherever we're going, then it can take anywhere from fifteen minutes to a couple of hours to talk the subject into going to the ambulance. Then we have to arrange for the ride back. It doesn't take very many of these to really mess up an already busy schedule."

"You just can't help but chair the Winter Formal committee, can you?" Monique asked, clearly amused.

"That and the fact that Bonnie has really cranked up her game lately," Kim admitted.

Monique nodded, remembering earlier conversations with her friend. While Bonnie had always been a very capable cheerleader, she had been working even harder the last couple of weeks. Kim was still better with the acrobatics but Bonnie was closing the gap. This had, of course, spurred Kim to even greater efforts.

"So, you planning on some heavy couple time with the PF over the Thanksgiving Weekend?" Monique asked. "Or would you rather hit ATD sales, with me?"

"I'm afraid that I can't do either one," Kim answered. "Nana's going to make the trip to my Uncle Slim's ranch, so we're heading up to do the major fam thing."

"Ron going with you?"

"No, he's got family coming to visit," Kim sighed. "Ron's cousin Rueben is bringing his wife to visit Ron's fam that weekend. They haven't had a chance to meet Hanna yet. Are you planning anything with Mat?"

"Glad you asked," Monique grinned. "He's having Thanksgiving dinner with us and I'll be visiting his place the day after Christmas!"

"Whoa, it looks like things are going okay between the two of you," Kim smiled at her friend.

"You know it," Monique gushed. "I'm going to have to lay a massive thank you on Ron the next time I see him."

As if his name had summoned him, the blonde boy, accompanied by Felix, Oscar and Yori, wandered up.

"…so the teacher thought my research was pretty good," Ron was telling the other teens. "She also likes the fact that I tried to rehearse the presentation. Of course, I didn't mention the incident after the bus got in."

"I do not understand this," Yori confessed, while Oscar and Felix chuckled. "Why did your teammates take offense when you practiced your presentation on the bus? And why did they resort to such actions to display their displeasure?"

"It wasn't as bad as it sounds," Felix informed her.

"It was more good natured than anything else," Oscar agreed. "I guess you could consider it a male bonding activity."

"Oh! Hey KP, Monique," Ron greeted the two girls, as the quartet approached the duo. "Sorry I had to duck in early, I wanted to discuss my business project with Mrs. L."

"I don't mind you coming in early to keep on top of your classes," Kim told him. "But I still haven't gotten a proper good morning."

Ron took the hint and the two teens looked around and, seeing no faculty, shared a quick kiss.

"That's better," Kim told him. "Now, what's this about an incident after the bus got back?"

Felix and Oscar started laughing again.

"Well," Ron rubbed the back of his neck. "I was practicing my presentation for business class on the bus and some of the guys sort of…took it badly."

"Just what…" Kim was interrupted by Wade's appearance on her locker computer.

"Sorry to interrupt," Wade apologized. "But we just got another hit on the site."

"Another Pump OD?" Ron whined.

"No, major flooding on the Arkansas River," Wade informed him. "There are at least four groups of whitewater rafters that are missing at this time, and at least four rock climbing groups that have been cut off. State and local authorities are calling for every volunteer that they can reach."

"We're there Wade," Kim informed him. "What's our ride's sitch?"

"National Guard helicopter, parking lot, fifteen minutes," Wade reported.

"Just enough time to change into mission gear," Kim commented.

"Hand over your class assignments," Monique told the two. "I'll see to it that they get turned in."

"You both rock," Ron thanked both Monique and Wade. The two teens quickly pulled their mission bags out of their lockers, hurried to their respective bathrooms to change, and were waiting on the helicopter when it arrived.

* * *

The rest of the day passed in a blur. The teens received mission briefings on the way to the river. The mission was fairly similar to the mission they had taken during their return from Japan, over the summer. While the National Guard had the helicopters available, it didn't have enough ground teams too perform enough, simultaneous rescues. That's where Team Possible came in.

For the next several hours, Team Possible helped the National Guard crew rescue stranded rock climbers and whitewater rafters, shuttling the victims to the Canon City Regional Airport. Finally, in the early afternoon, the rescue authorities had accounted for all known parties. The head of the rescue effort addressed Team Possible at this time.

"Kim, Don," he greeted them.

"Ron," Kim corrected.

"Ron, sorry," he apologized. "There might be some stranded parties, whom we cannot spot from the air, on the river between here and Canon City. Are the two of you up for some kayaking?"

Soon, Kim and Ron were each in a kayak, paddling down the river. Another search party was starting at Canon City so the teens would be finished for the day, once they reached the town. While the river was very high and strong, the teens were working a fairly easy stretch. They didn't spot any stranded victims and it took a little over an hour for them to reach Canon City. Wade, relaying messages from the rescue authorities, directed the teens to a docking site. As they approached, they spotted a small swarm of reporters. As Kim brought her kayak to shore, Ron spotted a small group of people, about a quarter of a mile down river. These people seemed to be clustered around a pile of debris.

"KP," Ron called into his Kimmunicator. "I see what might be further rescue work going on down river. I'm going to see if I can help."

"I'm right with you," Kim declared.

"I don't know if that's a good idea," Ron answered. "The reporters are going to follow you. If you pull in here, they'll stay here, out of the way. Why don't I go and call you if we need more help?"

"That makes sense," Kim conceded, clearly not happy. "Be careful."

"Right back at you, KP," Ron quipped, then guided his kayak towards the activity he had spotted.

* * *

"Lipsky, you've just been volunteered to help out with the flood problems," one of the staff's voice burst through Ed's door. This seriously ground the big man's gears; he had gotten off his shift, then finished his latest project, a few hours ago. Now this legal dude woke him up just when he was dreaming about mounting a V-12 engine on a motorcycle frame, seriously.

"This tanks, dude," he shouted back. "Where am I goin' and what am I doin', seriously?"

"You're heading to the airport," the staffer shouted back. "Rescue operations. They need someone with a strong back and a weak mind to haul equipment. That's you."

"Ah, man!" Ed whined. "That dudes got some serious 'tude problems. Alright, I'm moving!"

"You're going to have to take your own wheels," the man shouted back. "We don't have transport for you."

"Well, at least something's looking up, seriously," Ed commented, getting up and getting dressed. He rushed to the garage and started up the bike he had finished just the other night. The ride to the airport calmed him down. For some reason, riding his latest set of wheels always made him seriously mellow.

Ed reached the airport and reported to the Prison Bureau coordinator. Soon, the big man was hauling emergency rations out of storage and helping to set up tents. He seriously hated this work but one of his conditional release's terms was that he had to help with such 'community betterment' efforts. He wasn't about to risk the sweet deal he had. Besides, if he grinned and bore it, he figured that it could take some serious time off of his sentence. While hauling another load of blankets out of storage, Ed spotted a familiar head of red hair in one of the helicopters. Immediately, Ed went to find the Prison Bureau coordinator.

"Hey dude," the big man addressed the official. "I can't be working here, seriously."

"What seems to be the problem?" The man asked, disgust evident in his manner.

"Red's here, seriously," the big man pointed to the teen heroine.

"That's Kim Possible," the man confirmed. "What's your problem?"

"I've got a restraining order," Ed pointed out. "I'm already in violation, seriously. I can't come within a quarter mile of her. If she's gonna be working here, I have to be somewhere else!"

"Okay, you're right," the man told him. "I'm arranging for you to go down by the river. There's a crew clearing debris on the bank."

"I'm there, dude, seriously," Ed thanked him, in his own way, hopped on his bike and rode to the indicated street.

For the next couple of hours, Ed helped haul debris away from the bank and load it onto a series of dump trucks. Finally, the last load was on a truck and another corrections officer was about to release Ed, when the driver mistakenly dumped the load. One of the other parole 'volunteers' was trapped under the debris.

Ed and the other parolees worked desperately to uncover the man. While Ed didn't care much about the guy, seriously, he wasn't about to just let someone smother while he stood around. Besides, it would look seriously bad on the parole report. The group had removed most of the debris when Ed heard a somewhat familiar voice.

"Hold up the pile, I'll get him out!"

Ed didn't stop too think, he just strained his muscles to hold up the pile of junk. A smaller guy slithered under the mound.

"He's alive, I need some timbers, cinderblocks, anything!" The voice shouted from under the heap. The correction's officer managed to locate some logs and cinderblocks and passed them to the mystery dude.

Ed's muscles were seriously trembling when the next shout came from under the debris

"I've got the pile braced! Let it down slow!"

Ed and the other parolees eased the pile down.

"It's holding!" The next shout reported. "We need paramedics in here!"

Minutes later, a fire truck showed up and the firefighters took over the job of extracting the victim. A couple of paramedics crawled under the pile, displacing the mystery dude. Ed watched, dumbfounded, as the dude crawled out from under the pile. He seriously couldn't believe it when he recognized…

"Skinny dude?" Ed gasped. Then the big man seized his opportunity, while the authorities were distracted.

"Alright, skinny dude," Ed grabbed Ron by the shoulder and pulled him away from the crowd. "It's about time you learned what happens when you take Ed's ride, seriously!"

* * *

Kim finished answering the reporters' questions and turned to where she had seen Ron going. She found a small group of firefighters and parolees, identified by orange shirts and jackets, clustered around a pile of debris. As she watches, a couple of firefighters pulled a parolee from under the pile and loaded him into an ambulance. The ambulance drove off and Kim spotted.

"Ed?"

"Whoa, Red!" The big man yelped. He then turned towards a man, who must have been some sort of official. "Hey, she's approaching me. You can't say that I'm violating my release, seriously!"

"Where's Ron?" She demanded of the big man.

"Skinny dude? Let's just say that he's learning what happens when you jack Ed's ride," he smirked.

"What have you done to him?" Kim snarled. "I swear, if you don't tell me where he is, right now, I'm going to…"

A loud engine interrupted Kim's threats as a massive, custom bike pulled up between Kim and Ed. The driver reached up and pulled off his helmet, proving to be…

"Ron?" Kim gasped. "What…I mean how…"

"Dude this is one SWEET ride, seriously," Ron complimented Ed, tossing the helmet to the big man.

"Seriously?" Ed asked.

"Seriously!" Ron confirmed.

"What's going on here!?" Kim demanded.

"What'd I tell you red?" Ed replied. "I'm teachin' skinny dude here what happens when you take Ed's ride, seriously!"

"So what just happened?" Kim now wanted to know.

"When you take Ed's ride, Ed builds a better one, seriously," the big man informed her.

"Okay, this referring to yourself in the third person is getting creepy," Kim informed him. "But what does Ron riding your new bike have to do with getting even with him for getting your old one?"

"Simple, Red," Ed informed her, with a huge grin. "Now that the skinny dude has ridden on this one, he won't be satisfied with the old one, seriously."

"You got that right, Ed," Ron replied, giving Kim a discrete, 'follow me on this one' look.

"What's wrong with the old one?" Kim asked.

"Nuthin, seriously," Ed told her. "But it ain't as good as this one. Wait 'till this one's finished, it will really be sweeeet!" The last word merged with Ed's 'air guitar squeal' and the big man wound up on his back again.

"I don't get it," Kim confessed. "Don't you have any wild scheme for revenge? Aren't you going to try to trash us? All you're going to do is let Ron drive your bike?"

"Hey, I got no beef with either one of you, seriously," Ed insisted, getting back to his feet. "In fact, I probably owe the skinny dude, seriously!"

"Owe me?" Ron asked. "Why would you owe me a favor?"

"If your old man hadn't bought my old ride, I'd probably still have it, seriously."

"I'm still not seeing where you owe me," Ron conceded.

"Dude, seriously! You can't go building a new ride when you still got the old one!"

"So you're saying that me taking your old bike gave you an excuse to build a new one?" Ron couldn't understand the reasoning. "If you wanted a new ride, why didn't you just start on one earlier."

"Dude, no way, seriously! You can't be working on a new ride while you still have the old one, that's like immoral, seriously!"

"You look at bike ownership like marriage?" Kim was stunned.

"No way, Red," Ed corrected her. "Owning a bike is like, serious business, you know?"

* * *

The ride back to Middleton started out just a little awkwardly for the teens. For one thing, Wade hadn't been able to scare up a ride for them, at least not a conventional ride. Wade had managed to find an express freight train heading in the correct direction. There were no passenger cars on the train so Kim and Ron were quite literally traveling hobo style. The train would stop at the Lowerton marshalling yard, in about two hours. Wade was certain he could arrange a ride to take the teens back to school by that time. The second awkward point was the fact that Ron still hadn't gotten over Ed's new ride.

Kim had put up with Ron's gushing about the balance, torque, and handling characteristics for about thirty minutes before firmly stuffing his Business Class notes into his hands and putting him to work. While Ron was caught up in this particular class, he took the hint, shut his mouth, and started in on various homework assignments. The freight car was surprisingly comfortable for this purpose.

Half an hour out of Lowerton, both teens were as caught up as could be expected, with the exception that Ron wanted to rehearse his business presentation.

"So what are you trying to accomplish?" Kim asked, volunteering to be the audience.

"The teacher wants us all to give a marketing presentation," Ron explained. "I'm doing mine on…surprise…restaurants."

"You're going with your strength," Kim commented, gesturing for him to continue.

"I based my marketing plan on the marketing plan a Japanese auto manufacturer came up with a few…okay, several years ago," he expanded.

"Okay, I'm not seeing the connection," Kim confessed. "How can you use a car manufacturer's plan work for the food business?"

"It wasn't so much a plan as a strategy," Ron informed her. "You see, this manufacturer, and its competitors, were in the habit of building multiple models. Sometimes, these models, made by the same factory, would wind up competing with each other for market share."

"Still not seeing the connection."

"I'm getting there," Ron protested. "Anyway, this manufacturer's number-crunchers realized that they were wasting money by developing and promoting competing models. In an effort to stop doing this, they followed imaginary people through their lives and decided to develop one model for each stage in a person's life. For instance, when you first get your license, you're probably short on cash and want an economy car. This car will take you through college, at which point you start your career but don't have a family, so you can afford a sports car."

"I think I get it," Kim interrupted. "Then you get married, start a family, and that's when you want a family car or an SUV."

"Then the kids grow up and move out," Ron continued. "Then you start looking at luxury cars."

"And you decided to apply this to the food industry?" Kim asked.

"Exactly," Ron nodded. "Now, even though Bueno Nacho has my undying loyalty, I decided to ignore the fast food industry. As a young teen, you're looking for casual dining and good prices, kind of like a glorified hamburger place. You can probably handle the fatty foods, since you probably have a fairly pumped up metabolism. When you become an older teen, like we are now, you're probably looking for a semi-formal sort of thing, right for dating or hanging with friends."

"Like Riverna's," Kim supplied. "We go there on dates and I go there to hang with Monique."

"You're getting the idea," Ron nodded. "Now, this sort of place will probably satisfy you up until you reach twenty-one, at that point you might like a casual bar, maybe a sports bar type of place. Then comes marriage and children, and you want healthy food, quick service and reasonable prices. After the kids grow up and move out, you're going to be in the market for true, formal dining."

"This sounds interesting and feasible," Kim approved.

"Thanks," Ron smiled. "Now, here's the details."

Ron spent the next several minutes describing potential menu items, desserts, drinks and other issues. He finished his presentation about the time the train pulled into the Lowerton Station. The teens quickly linked up with their ride to Middleton, a middle-aged woman whose house they had once painted. They continued their discussion in the car.

"I'm not the one giving you the grade," Kim admitted. "But it sounds like you've really put in some thought and research into this." She paused, "is this the same presentation you were practicing on the wrestling bus?"

"I've worked out a few more details," Ron shrugged his shoulders. "But yes, it's essentially the same."

"So what set the team off on you last night?" Kim asked. "And just what did they do?"

"Well," Ron began, rubbing the back of his neck. "I really got into the dessert menu."

"So what's wrong with th…" Suddenly, Kim understood. "I take it that a bus full of teenaged boys, on wrestling diets, didn't take too kindly to the lurid dessert descriptions?"

"That's an understatement," Ron informed her. "As soon as we got off the bus, they picked me up, carried me to the empty field behind the school and threw me in the pond. I dragged three of them in with me and that started a kind of spontaneous, every man for himself roughhouse session in the pond."

"Ron," Kim was exasperated. "It was almost down to freezing last night!"

"Everyone ran home really fast after Coach Winters broke it up."

"Does this explain why half the wrestling team was coughing like barking seals at school today?" Kim's glare was quickly becoming an amused look.

"That could have something to do with it," Ron admitted. "I am so not looking forward to practice tonight."

"Why's that?" Kim wondered. "With your 'fortress of immunity' working for you, you should have an advantage over most of the other guys."

"Yeah, but have you noticed that I wind up using a cross-face, where I use my forearm to flatten my opponent's nose across his cheek, almost every match?"

Kim nodded.

"Trust me," Ron told her with a shudder. "That's not pleasant when he has a runny nose."

* * *

_A/N:_

_Thanks again for reading the story. 36 chapters and still going._

_Again, I'd like to express my appreciation to Joe Stoppinghem, for his Beta services._

_Until my next update, best wishes;_

_daccu65_


	37. Second Guessing

Chapter 37: Second Guessing

"Is something bothering you, Shego?," Montgomery Fiske asked. "Perhaps you are having second thoughts about relocating. That last job we took, in Europe, paid very well for a minimal effort."

"No, Monty," Shego informed him. "That last job really convinced me that it was time to clear out. Senior Senior Senior didn't need _us_ to steal that artwork. The old boy is thinking of getting back in the villainy game and he's trying to see what he can get away with. I don't want to be anywhere near him when he pushes the boundaries too far and gets squashed."

"Then what's bothering you?"

"I haven't heard from Drew," Shego admitted. She got up from her chair and walked to her safehouse's door. "We have covert, communications channels set up. Whoever he's working for has him on a very tight leash, otherwise he'd have sent me a message."

"Perhaps he doesn't have anything to report," Monty suggested.

"Drew doesn't work that way," Shego informed him. "Trust me, if he had any way of contacting me, he'd be talking about the food, the furnishings or something. At the very least, he'd be bragging about what he's doing."

"So now you're concerned for his safety once again," Monty commented.

"Exactly," Shego confirmed. She sighed and looked out over the valley. Her home was well thought out. It was far enough away from the city of Huehuetenango that casual passers-by were rare, yet close enough for convenient re-supply. It was located up a narrow draw, so they could observe any approaching vehicle traffic. Behind the house, the duo had scouted out three hidden routes, which they could use to escape if the house were raided. Higher up, in the mountains, they had established a cache of food, clothing and forged passports. They had already made contact with local smugglers, taking on work as enforcers and guards. The smugglers had also found some Mayan sites and Monty's expertise meant that they were making more money selling the artifacts. All in all, it looked like they could remain here, living well, for at least a couple of months.

If only Shego could quit worrying about Drakken.

"Have you made use of your…less than legal contacts, too locate him?" Monty asked.

"Of course!" She snapped. "These things take time and whoever has him is going out of his way to be secretive. Trying to get information out of Jack isn't any good. When you pay him to keep a secret, the secret is kept."

"Perhaps concentrating on Drakken himself isn't the answer," Monty suggested.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Shego snarled.

"Why did this mysterious benefactor want the man's services?" Monty asked.

"Because he's brilliant and unencumbered by anything resembling morals!" Shego yelled at her lover. "We've been through this before!"

"Indeed," Monty replied, unperturbed. "Would Drakken be the only such individual they would want?"

"What does that matter?" She yelled at him, tempted to fire up her hands.

"If Mr. Hench were to ask us to…acquire other such unscrupulous gentlemen, we may assume that they are being…employed by the same benefactor," Monty pointed out.

"So instead of trying to track down Drakken…" Shego finished, now much more calm. "We check on the whereabouts of other mad scientists."

"Exactly," Monty nodded. "After all, Mr. Lipsky couldn't have been a genius at every technical endeavor. Perhaps you could tell me where he was…intellectually lacking."

"Well," Shego mused. "He was great with electronics but not with mechanics. He also wasn't all that great at building structures that could withstand the stresses his inventions generated. He also had to track down that Megahenry guy for some special power transmission thing."

"Very well," Monty approved. "Perhaps you could let Mr. Hench know that we are adding 'scientist kidnapping' to our contact services." He frowned, "do you think our current employers will allow us to take such contract work?"

"Are you kidding?" Shego smiled at him. "It's a feather in their cap. If we can kidnap some laser scientist, or something, they'll be able to let their rivals know that we're on their payroll. It's an intimidation thing."

"Excellent my dear," Monty smiled back. "Now, assuming that we are hired to perform such a kidnapping, how will we follow our quarry?"

"I'll buy a tracking chip from Henchco," Shego replied. "Nothing simpler."

"Won't Mr. Hench see the possible link?" Monty asked, with a troubled expression.

"Jack's job is to not be curious," Shego assured him. "Trust me, he'll guess what we're up to but he won't say a word. Around the people I used to hang with, we had a saying: Three people can keep your secrets, as long as two of 'em are dead and the other one's Jack Hench."

"Very well," Monty looked thoughtful. "Now shall we look into another route to locating your former employer?"

"What could that be?" Shego asked.

"This mystery organization needed Lipsky's services," Monty recounted. "And they went to a great deal of expense to obtain them. Surely, there can't be many nefarious organizations that need his level of expertise and can afford the expenditures that they have incurred."

"In other words, find out who would both want him, and can afford him?" Shego asked, for confirmation.

"Indeed, my dear. It could go a long way toward 'narrowing the field,' you might say."

"Well," Shego leaned back against the wall, her chin caught between her thumb and forefinger. "First, it might not be just a criminal organization. There are a whole lot of legitimate corporations that have secretive research centers. They come up with something quick, dirty and dangerous, then reverse engineer it so that they can make it safe and legal." She snorted, "it could be a government, as well."

"So my suggestion isn't very useful?" Monty inquired.

"Are you kidding?" Shego shook her head. "It's a great idea! It just might take more work than you thought. Anyway, I've got a few hours to contact Hench and start my list of possible organizations. It's going to be an interesting night at the base tonight."

"Why is that?"

"One of the workers has been pocketing a little bit of the product and he thinks I've been too distracted to notice. In fact, he thinks that he's going to bag a certain green-skinned, dark-haired trophy before too much longer." Shego held up her right hand, contemplating the razor-sharp nails. "It's about time to make an example of the would-be loverboy and make sure everybody knows their place."

* * *

Kim launched herself upwards and backwards, springing with the assistance of her brothers. She performed a back flip and landed on the top of the pyramid, with one foot on Liz's shoulder and the other on Bonnie's. For a few moments she stood, arms up, while the squad shouted their 'Go Maddogs' chant. At the end of the chant, Kim sprang forward again, executing a front flip. The squad 'broke' the pyramid just like they had done during the pep rally, at the beginning of the year.

"Okay, take five," Kim told her squad. "We'll be working on the synchronized routines after the break."

Bonnie gave Kim an appraising look. Earlier, Bonnie and Kim had changed places, with Bonnie taking the top point. The brunette had stumbled when she landed on the top, forcing her to drop into a deep crouch too regain her balance. Only a few weeks ago, Bonnie hadn't been able to even land on the top slot. Whatever she was doing, she was clearly closing the gap in raw, athletic ability.

Kim frowned as Bonnie turned away and stretched. For the past two weeks, the tall brunette had become even snarkier, if that were possible. Yesterday, she had gotten so angry at Tim and Jim, accusing them of giving Kim more of a spring on the routines than they gave her, that Kim had been forced to physically separate them. Bonnie had screamed at Tara, accusing her of not standing steady enough as the pyramid's base. The lighthearted blonde had been reduced to tears. She had even ripped into Crystal and Ruth, claiming that Crystal couldn't make her big butt move quick enough to save her life and that Ruth was clearly too stupid to learn the routines and should go back to being the mascot. All in all, Bonnie was very close to being kicked off the squad and the rest of the girls were clearly upset. Cheerleading had gone from being fun to being a torturous drill, suffering for a possible reward.

The cheerleading squad wasn't Kim's only worry. The new drug, Pump, had made even more inroads into the tri-city area. In the three weeks since the rescue mission on the Arkansas River, Team Possible had dealt with four more overdose cases. There were also reports of the substance showing up in Go City and Mecerville. Wade had found out more about the drug. The young genius had arranged to brief her and Ron, tonight, in the privacy of the Possible residence.

If that wasn't enough, The Mathter was becoming more and more active. Without competition from Drakken, Dementor and Aviarius, and taking advantage of the unemployed henchmen, the number-obsessed villain was expanding his operations beyond Go City. Kim and Ron had tangled with the man three times in the last three weeks. So far, all he had done was attempt to steal technology but, according to Dr. Director, Global Justice thought that he would be making some sort of move, soon. Fortunately, the man had never shown much interest in taking over the world. He was still determined to make the world adopt his numeric system, in which pi was a finite integer.

At least the Thanksgiving Holiday had been enjoyable. Every time Kim got the chance to visit Nana, she realized just how much she missed her grandmother. Her 'rents had clearly been keeping the older woman updated on her eldest granddaughter's dating status. Kim had blushed furiously when her grandmother asked her when she could be expecting great grandchildren.

Kim had also spent hours talking with Joss. Where her younger cousin used to idolize first her, then Ron, she was now idolizing the two of them as both a couple and a team. While there were still lots of pictures of Ron on Joss's walls, there were now even more pictures of Kim and Ron together. Of course, the younger girl had managed to acquire a picture of Ron during his recent wardrobe malfunction. Tasteful blurring obscured Ron's…grin but Kim suspected that her cousin had an undistorted photo hidden somewhere in her room.

With the break over, Kim started her squad on the routines, once again. Fortunately for Kim's peace of mind, the squad executed the choreographed routines almost flawlessly. Even Bonnie couldn't find anything to complain about. Finally, Kim stopped the practice and talked to them for the last five minutes.

"Okay everybody," she opened. "We only have one more game to cheer, next week, before the holiday break. Now, this squad is great but we're starting to have some problems getting along with each other." Although Kim continued to look at everyone in the squad, she could see that Bonnie was tensed up.

"Now, we've worked together to form a championship level squad. No other squad is going to take us down. The only thing that's going to stop us is us. So we're not going to have any practices during the holiday break. I want everyone to keep in shape but more importantly, I want everyone to take some time and have fun. We're going to take a break, relax, and come back ready to go in the new year."

"So, what's your plan over the holidays?" Kim heard Bonnie asking Liz. Kim was rather surprised, as her tone seemed almost conversational.

"Oh, hanging with the fam," Kim's fellow redhead answered. "We've got cousins and such coming to visit. We'll probably do all of the kids stuff things." Liz visibly flinched, then, as courtesy demanded, she asked, "How about you?"

"Oh," Bonnie replied, in her theatrically nonchalant voice. "Junior has invited me to visit him on his island, it's in the Mediterranean you know, so I guess I'm going to spend a lot of time sunning on the beach." The brunette favored the entire squad with a very superior smile. "He's going to be sending his private jet to pick me up, so I guess you'll all see me when I leave."

A silent shudder rippled through the squad. Bonnie had been really pushing her rich boyfriend on everybody she knew, and a few people she didn't, for weeks. Kim just couldn't help but bite back a little.

"Just be careful where you swim," she advised her rival, with a wicked grin. "The last time Ron and I were there, the piranha hadn't been delivered yet, so he kept his Koi very hungry. If you get attacked by hungry Koi, the marks they leave might lead all of us to the wrong conclusion."

Bonnie scowled at the titter of suppressed giggles that sounded amongst the squad.

"At least I've got a boyfriend who has Koi ponds, and a private island, and a private jet," she snapped at Kim. "What do you have? Your boyfriend drives a second hand bike that he bought off of a crook! While I'm sunning on a tropical island, what are you going to be doing? You're probably going to be fighting some freak in some nasty swamp, then you'll wind up eating fast food and catching a movie at the mall!"

"Yeah, there's a pretty good chance I'll do that," Kim admitted. For some reason, the possibility didn't bother her one bit. "But if I have my way, Christmas day will be spent opening presents, singing carols and having a massive snowball fight out in the yard."

"So you'll spend the day cold and damp," Bonnie snorted.

"Most of the afternoon," Kim replied. "Then I'll cuddle up with Ron on the couch in front of a fire."

"And admire the Bueno Bucks he gives you," Bonnie finished for her.

"If that's what he gives me, then yes," Kim continued to smile, knowing that her refusal to argue was irritating her rival.

"K, for someone who's accomplished as much as you have, you really tend to settle."

With that, Bonnie oriented her nose firmly into the air and marched out of the gym.

"Well, I suspect someone's getting coal in their stocking come Christmas Morning," commented Cindy. She had just released the wrestling cheerleaders, from where they had been rehearsing at the other end of the gym, and approached too talk to Kim.

"I can only hope," the redhead muttered. "What brings you this way?"

"I'm playing my part in a grapevine," Cindy informed the redhead. At Kim's confused look, she continued, "You see, Mrs. Randall let Oscar borrow a horse and sleigh last year, at the beginning of the Christmas Break."

"If I remember right, that was your first date with Oscar," Kim commented.

"True," Cindy agreed. "After we took that little ride through the park, a lot of people became interested in renting the horse and sleigh. It turned out to be a marketing bonanza for her."

"It makes sense," Kim nodded. "It looked like a very romantic date."

"It was," Cindy confirmed. "Now, Mrs. Randall has a little problem. It seems that she fixed up a couple more sleighs, expecting quite a bit of demand this year, but the demand just hasn't materialized. So, being a smart woman, she asked Oscar if he'd like to take it out on a date again, next weekend."

"Trying for another marketing bonanza, I take it," Kim surmised. "What does that have to do with me?"

"Oscar thought that the double date thing would be great," Cindy informed him. "But he thought it might be kind of awkward for you, since it was Ron and Sue with us last year, rather than Ron and you."

"So he sent you to ask me, before he asked Ron?" Kim guessed.

"Exactly."

"It's not awkward for me at all," Kim informed her. Then, with her biggest smile of the day, informed her, "in fact, it looked like a lot of fun."

"It was," Cindy informed her. "Does next Saturday work for you?"

With a nod, Kim agreed. Next weekend was shaping up to be wonderful time. The Winter Formal was Friday night and now she had a romantic date scheduled for Saturday. She hoped that the briefing Wade had prepared wouldn't destroy the weekend before it started.

* * *

"I'm ahead of schedule, so you can just forget about shocking me again," Drakken whined at the personnel manager. "I'm doing my part!"

"Agreed," the pleasant man nodded. "However, I'm forced to wonder why you want to re-establish your power transmission network."

"I've been trying to take over the world since before you understood the concept," Drakken snapped back. _"Now is the time to be indignant_," he thought. _"And push the fact that I actually have a moral or two."_

"I've never managed it," Drakken continued. "But I can recognize it when someone's trying to do it. These machines you have me working on are capable, mass producible and have a limited operational life. That really smells like someone trying to take over the world, to me."

"Perhaps our benefactor is doing just that," the man replied, evasively. "You seemed to have a problem with this a few weeks ago."

"You showed me the error of my ways," Drakken grumbled, tapping the collar on his neck.

"Indeed," the man nodded again. "I can understand you playing your part but why are you helping us? This seems a little out of character and forces me to question your motivation."

"I'm not helping you take over the world," Drakken answered. The blue man knew that this was the vital point. If he failed to be convincing, the consequences could be lethal. If he was convincing, he might have a chance at pulling off his scheme. "I'm helping with the aftermath."

"What do you mean?" The personnel manager's gaze was intent.

"What happens to the populace once you take over the world?" Drakken asked. "You're going to inflict a great deal of damage to the world's infrastructure. That will leave an awful lot of people without utilities. Now, if you let me establish a power transmission network, you'll be able to distribute power to the populace, once you've seized control. Even if I'm forced to be part of this attack, I'll at least have made life a little easier for everybody afterwards."

"And what do we get out of it?" The man asked.

Drakken fought to keep the smile off of his face. "_I've got you now_."

"It depends upon what kind of world your, or our, benefactor wants to rule," Drakken replied, allowing just a little enthusiasm to slip into his tone. "If he wants to rule a starving, impoverished planet, it's up to him. On the other hand, if he want's to rule a productive, functioning society, he's going to have to start thinking about the 'after' before he executes his plan."

"I'll suggest this to him," the pleasant man murmured. "Now, what can you tell me about the problem with the machines' locomotion?"

"I've never claimed to be a mechanical genius!" Drakken snapped. "Look, I'm well ahead of schedule with the weaponry! I'm well ahead of schedule with the power distribution design, but I've never been good at converting electrical energy to kinetic energy!" Dr. Drakken fingered his collar; he didn't need to fake the anxiety in his voice.

"Perhaps this is true," the man mused. "I will take this up with my benefactor. You have done what we've asked. Fortunately for you, you've brought the matter to our attention before the schedule has become…stressed."

With that, the man turned and left the room. Drakken stared at the door he had passed through. _"Such an ordinary looking door,"_ the would-be tyrant mused. _"But I now live in captivity on this side while freedom lies on the other side."_

Drakken shook his head and went back to his research, hoping that his mysterious benefactor would take the bait he had just displayed.

* * *

"Okay Wade, what do you have?" Kim, comfortably ensconced in her couch, snuggled against her PF, felt ready to deal with whatever Wade had found out.

"The DEA has been coordinating the Tri-City area law enforcement's Pump research with the efforts in Go City and Mecerville," the young genius started. "And they've got some preliminary findings about the effects the drug has on the human body."

"It sounds like you're going to be putting out some serious science content," Ron interjected. "I'd like to remind you that this is another subject where I'm a gentleman's C student."

"Gotcha, Ron," Wade smiled, taking another drink from his ever-present slurpster. "I'll be using layman's terms."

"First of all," Wade started. "Pump seems to have effects similar to Meth and Ecstasy. The user initially experiences increased energy, decreased appetite, and a general feeling of optimism. With prolonged use, and we're talking a couple of weeks, the optimism becomes replaced with anxiety and aggression." The boy looked out of the television, his expression serious, "the experts don't think that the emotional effects, or the addiction, is accidental."

"I'm not understanding that, Wade," Kim admitted.

"Okay, with most…recreational drugs, addiction is caused as a side effect. The user becomes either physically or emotionally dependent upon the drug's effects."

"Kind of like a smoker who gets jittery without his nicotine?" Ron asked.

"Exactly," Wade agreed. "Bear in mine that tobacco doesn't inhibit the users ability to calm down. Instead, the user's body becomes dependent upon the…extra boost, if you will."

"How is Pump different?" Kim asked.

"There seem to be a clever, serotonin and dopamine inhibitor build into the drug," Wade responded. "The user initially experiences enhanced production but the inhibitors kick in over time. As a result, the user will begin to stop feeling a pleasant response and will become depressed and agitated. What's got the DEA freaked is that the damage isn't permanent."

"How is non-permanent effects a bad thing?" Ron asked.

"Someone went to a great deal of trouble to develop a drug that's both addictive and causes no permanent damage. It's like this drug is intended to get people hooked, make them cause problems, then allow them to rehab with minor effects. According to the DEA, this drug seems to be designed to addict people, cause them to create trouble, then allow them to be rehabilitated with almost no long-term health problems."

"We're missing something here," Kim stated. "It's something important but I just don't know what it is."

* * *

Bonnie Rockwaller walked through Middleton Park, glancing behind her every once in a while to make sure that she wasn't being followed. While the new snowfall had the park glistening, the efficient Park's Department had cleared off the sidewalks. Not far from Mankey's mural, she sat at a bench and waited. Before long, a figure in a bulky trenchcoat, with the collar pulled up, joined her on the bench.

"I believe you want to do some business," the figure told her. Bonnie wasn't an expert, but she knew a distorted voice when she heard one.

"Ben told me that I'd have to do business with someone else," Bonnie told the figure. "Why is this?"

"His two weeks were up," the figure's shoulders seemed to shrug under the coat. "Just my way of keeping ahead of…those who want to stop me."

"So, has the price changed?" Bonnie asked, reaching for her purse.

"Not at all," the figure replied. "But maybe you won't mind being on the better side of the cash flow, for a while."

"Are you saying you want me to deal?" Bonnie demanded.

"Why not?" The figure retorted. "Haven't you become a better cheerleader by using the…product?"

"Well, yes," Bonnie admitted.

"What harm has it caused you?"

"None, but if I'm caught dealing…"

"It's for two weeks," the figure told her. "After that, I move on to someone else. Nobody needs to get hurt and nobody gets caught."

"Just two weeks?" Bonnie asked.

"Just two weeks," the figure confirmed. "You're one of the most popular girls in the school, so you know who'll be interested in making use of the product. What you make is strictly up to you. Besides, for the next two weeks, you'll get you product wholesale." Bonnie could swear she heard a slight giggle.

"Okay, fine," Bonnie decided. "Two weeks!"

"Totally freaky," the figure responded. "Now, let's talk about your established…clientele and how you can expand."

* * *

_A/N: _

_Thanks again for everybody who has taken the time to read this little story. While it still has a way to go, I'm finally seeing the ending. A special thanks to everyone who has taken the time to review and/or PM. _

_Thanks again to Joe Stoppinghem, for his invaluable beta services._

_Until my next update, best wishes;_

_daccu65_


	38. The Weekend Before the Holidays

Chapter 38: The Weekend Before the Holidays

"You seem strangely satisfied today," Montgomery Fiske commented to his green-skinned companion. Shego had just arrived at the couple's home, after a night of providing security and 'motivation' at the smuggler's warehouse.

"I don't think things could have worked out better," Shego answered, with an absolutely predatory smile. "Paco decided to show off his machismo and wound up providing the perfect example."

"I take it he experienced a somewhat uncomfortable, abject lesson?"

"You could say that," Shego smirked. "I don't know where the idiot got off thinking that he could grab product and get away with it. He's also been telling his buddies that he was going to bag me. Anyway, when I confronted him about his theft, right in front of the entire factory, he decided to get all bold and pull his package out. He must have figured I'd be some kind of blushing schoolgirl." Shego snorted again, examining her razor-sharp claws, "it only took one, quick swipe to get everybody's attention. After that, I think we set a record for production in one night."

"Did you inflict permanent damage to the man?" Monty's face showed it's own amusement.

"Permanent, but not drastic," Shego answered, with a broad smile. 'He can still have a legacy, but I don't think he's going to be trying to reproduce anytime soon. How was your night?"

"Not as satisfying as yours," Fiske admitted. "But still productive. Some of the drivers were under the illusion that they could intimidate the undersized European, who gave them their orders. They now have a somewhat different opinion of me."

Shego looked a little closer at Monty. The man had some slight bruising around one eye and abrasions on his knuckles. The mercenary had no doubt that the man had gotten the better of the encounter. He was now much like Stoppable was, about a year ago. He might not be able to deal with the likes of her, Kimmie or Team Go, but he was a match for anything short of a superhero or supervillain.

"Fortunately, the vehicles they drive are equipped with automatic transmissions," Fiske continued. "So the broken hands won't affect their ability to drive."

"Do you have any plans for the rest of the day?" Shego asked, putting just a hint of seductive purr in her voice. His widened eyes indicated that he guessed how she intended to spend at least some of their down time.

"I have a little business to attend to, before moving on to more…enjoyable pursuits," he informed her. "Some of the locals have unearthed more artifacts and I want to classify them before becoming distracted." The last remark had been delivered with his own, surprisingly suggestive, expression.

"Oh!" He exclaimed, with a snap of his fingers. "You received an email. I suspect that it is one of your coded communications from Henchco."

"What did it say?" She asked, walking towards the spare room, where they kept their electronics equipment.

"I didn't look," he informed her. "Since it may be private."

Shego smiled as she seated herself in front of the computer. That was another thing she liked about Monty. If she had been incapacitated, he wouldn't have hesitated to open her email and use her decryption tables too read the real message. As it was, he respected her privacy, trusting her to divulge what she felt appropriate.

Shego opened the email and printed it. Then she grabbed an ancient, as in three years old, laptop. This older unit had an almost unbeatable electronic security feature; it had no internet access whatsoever. In this day of electronic espionage, simply keeping the most sensitive files on a non-communicating machine was sometimes the best option. Shego called up the decryption key and started to translate the actual message. It took her almost an hour and she could barely conceal her excitement when she was finished.

She sprinted out of the house and to the small shed, where Fiske kept the artifacts he was preparing for sale. The fallen nobleman looked up with an intent, curious expression as she approached.

"Monty!" She exclaimed, shoving her hand-written translation into his hands. "Check it out!"

"The amount offered is quite generous," he commented, after studying the paper for a few moments. "And it has the potential of furthering your other goal, even though I never wanted to associate with this fellow again."

"Look on the bright side," she snickered. "We could be putting together a family reunion."

* * *

Kim, her right hand holding Ron's left, her left arm over his shoulder and his right arm around her waist, spun with her partner. As the waltz reached its end, the two teens added a little spice to their steps, with Ron lifting Kim and twirling her around. He released her waist and she executed a graceful spin, ending by stepping back into a tight embrace as the music stopped. The two teens, along with the other couples at the Winter Formal, applauded. Kim took the arm Ron offered, and the two walked back to their table. Soon, Yori, Felix and Cindy joined them. Ron and Felix played the part of gentlemen, seating the girls. About the time that everybody got settled, Oscar showed up with a tray full of drinks.

"So, everybody, what do you think?" Kim asked her companions. "Be honest, I can handle it."

"It is a most enjoyable event, Possible-san," Yori answered. "I was unfamiliar with this type of a celebration, but I find myself taking pleasure in participating."

"You did a great job decorating the gym and arranging for the music," Cindy added. "I don't have any complaints."

"I'm not much of a formal dancer," Oscar chimed in. "And this is sort of a high brow function for me, but I'm glad I'm here."

Kim smiled at that. Oscar wasn't much of a dancer but he was athletic, agile, and possessed of musical ability. As a result, Cindy had proven to be able to guide him through some fairly intricate steps. Ron, on the other hand, kept trying to cut loose and show off. Kim found herself continually restraining her PF, promising to take him to a proper dance club in the near future, so that he could really unwind. The surprise couple had been Yori and Felix.

Felix had put a booster seat on his wheelchair, bringing himself much closer to Yori's height. Yori had perched on Felix's lap while they danced in the 'closed' position. During the open position steps, Yori orbited her boyfriend, while he rotated opposite her orbit, with the lithe, Japanese girl skipping gracefully over his extended legs. Kim had to smile when recalling the couple's dancing. It was obvious they had rehearsed their dance steps.

Kim looked to her PF, ready to discuss his friend's dancing ability but her comment caught in her throat. Ron's smile was somewhat strained and he was looking at Felix. Kim doubted that anybody else could tell that something was bothering Ron, much less that it dealt with Felix. Kim wracked her brain, trying to find an excuse to get Ron off alone, when she was interrupted again.

"Hello K, Cindy," Bonnie approached the table and addressed her two, fellow cheerleaders. "I see almost all of you are dressed appropriately for the event, but not everybody knows what formal means."

She delivered her line with a pointed look at Oscar. While Ron and Felix had both rented tuxedos (the one Joe had given Ron just wouldn't fit his filled out form) a one-night rental just wasn't in the Williamsens' budget. While Oscar wasn't the only boy wearing a jacket and tie, he was the only one in the immediate area. Cindy was prepared to snap back at the tall brunette, but Oscar's discrete nudge to her elbow quieted her.

"We appreciate your concern, Rockwaller-_san_," Yori replied, her emphasis on the honorific making it an obvious insult. "But I can assure you that those of us here have learned to appreciate the person, so that the packaging is irrelevant."

"That may be so, Yori," Bonnie replied. "But it is customary. Some of us prefer to observe the customs." She paused, theatrically, "I thought that you honored customs."

"Indeed I do, Rockwaller-_san_," Yori answered. "But only where such customs do not exclude those with honor, while embracing those without."

"This is supposed to be fun," Oscar interrupted. "Bonnie, do you want to join us? I didn't see you arrive, so I don't know if you have a date or friends with you. You're welcome to hang with us if you're feeling lonely."

"Thanks, but I think I'll pass," the social hierarchy's queen answered, in a low growl. "The atmosphere here is a little plain, you could say _common_, for my taste."

"Make sure you don't face into the wind," Oscar advised, as she turned to leave.

"What?" She demanded, spinning back around to face the table.

"It's snowing pretty heavily outside," he explained.

"I'm perfectly aware of that!" She snapped back.

"Oh, so you understand," Oscar nodded.

"Understand what?" She demanded.

"With your nose cranked up like that, if you turn into the wind, you just might drown," he advised her.

Bonnie had no answer to the round of ill-concealed snickers that erupted from the table, so she spun and marched off.

The three couples spent several minutes just chatting, until Cindy glanced over to another table.

"Oscar," she nudged her boyfriend. "If you don't mind, I'm going to dance with Larry, walk him through the steps, then push him into asking Lisa to dance. Those two have been making eyes at each other long enough."

"Lisa?" Kim perked up. "The same girl who liked Ron's freckles before…"

"The same one," Cindy giggled.

"Go for it," Oscar suggested. "And if it's okay with Yori and Felix, I'd be honored if our favorite exchange student would agree to dance with me."

"I would be delighted," Yori answered. "Felix-kun, is this acceptable to you?"

"Of course," Felix answered. "You should be enjoying yourself, not spending all of your time adjusting to my shortcomings."

"I do not find dancing with you to be unenjoyable," Yori protested. She seemed ready to speak further when Ron interrupted.

"Yori, why don't you cut some moves on the dance floor while your boyfriend fills me in on the latest Zombie Mayhem installment? I know that the rest of you don't much care for our video game addiction." Ron made discrete (at least he hoped they were discrete) glances at the others. Yori, Oscar, and Kim took the hint, leaving the blonde alone with his best human, male friend.

"Okay, buddy," Ron addressed Felix, once the two were alone. "You're way smarter than I am, so you'll know if I'm trying to get you to open up. Why don't you just tell me what's bothering you?"

Felix looked at Ron long and hard for a few, endless seconds before speaking.

"Ron," he started. "Have you ever thought less of me because I'm in this wheelchair?"

"What!? No," Ron answered, without hesitation. "To be honest, I've sort of looked forward to seeing how you handle sitches."

"What do you mean?" Felix looked just a little bit offended.

"The way you always overcome any possible obstacle," Ron clarified. "You want to attend school, so you build a crawler attachment to get up and down stairs. You want to go to the beach, so you fit the chair with monster tires. You want to attend a formal dance, so you alter the chair and work out some dance steps with your girlfriend. You've always seemed to…thrive on overcoming the obstacles that life has thrown your way. I've really admired that."

"I think I might have an obstacle I can't overcome," Felix admitted, his shoulders drooping and his gaze dropping to the tabletop.

"What is it?" Ron asked. "Can I help you with it?"

"I don't think Kim would really appreciate that," Felix quipped, rallying a little.

"Well…what's the problem?"

Felix spent close to a minute composing his thoughts before speaking.

"Ron?" He asked. "Do you ever wonder about your future with Kim?"

"Well, yeah," Ron admitted. "I did give her the promise ring. I hope that we can stay together long enough to get married, even though I know that we're young to be thinking that way."

"Yeah," Felix nodded. "Do you ever think about things in the more immediate future?"

"You mean like Christmas, Hanukkah, prom, and things like that?"

"No," Felix shook his head. "I mean, your relationship with Kim."

"Felix, I'm not that smart tonight. You're going to have to make things very clear here."

"Okay, fine," Felix looked around, confirming that there weren't any bystanders close by. "Do you ever think about becoming intimate with Kim?"

"Well…uh…er," Ron stammered, suddenly finding his collar entirely too tight.

"Ron," Felix shook his head. "We're friends and high school seniors! Can't we have this discussion without all the juvenile stuttering and embarrassment?"

"I can't say that I won't blush or stutter," Ron answered. "But I'll do my best, so yes, I've thought about it but I don't know how much of it's the hormones talking. We've decided to wait at least until we have our diplomas."

"In other words, you don't know how much of it's love and how much of it's base urges?"

"Exactly."

"But," Felix held up one finger. "When the right time comes, the two of you will become intimate?"

"Probably," Ron agreed. "I can't see us not taking that step."

"That's my problem," Felix admitted. "I can't take that step."

Ron nodded. He knew that Felix wasn't…functional in that regard. (All night Zombie Mayhem sessions, fueled by junk food and caffeinated soft drinks, spawned discussions with wide-ranging topics.)

"So I take it that you've had some thoughts about Yori in…that regard?" He asked his friend.

"Yeah," Felix confessed. "I mean, she's really smart but she's really hot as well."

Ron nodded. Sure, he was head over heels in love with Kim but he was a guy and he had noticed how attractive Yori was. He didn't feel guilty, at least not very much. He was sure that Kim noticed attractive guys.

"So," Felix continued. "What happens if she wants to…you know?"

"I take it that she doesn't know that you can't…." Ron left the question hanging in the air.

"No," Felix shook his head. "I never thought that it was that important."

"So what's changed?"

"Someone told me about a possible cure for my condition." Felix's statement caused Ron's eyes to snap wide open. "It's experimental and I don't know how many people have gone through with it. All I know is that a guy who was in worse shape than I am can now walk."

"What's the but?" Ron asked. "Good news like this always has a but."

"Like I said, there hasn't been any studies on the long term effects," Felix answered, with a smile at Ron's statement. "Because the treatment is so new that there hasn't been enough time to study the long term effects."

"What does your mom say?" Ron wondered.

"She doesn't know about it," Felix answered.

"Whoa," Ron leaned back into his seat. "Just how sure are you about this treatment?"

"I can't dispute my own eyes," Felix answered. "The guy who showed me the results wants it to be a secret, so I'm kind of on my own here…except for you."

"So you have to decide if the risks are worth the results?" Ron asked.

"Exactly," Felix nodded. "You know, up until a couple of months ago, being in the chair never really bothered me. It was kind of a game; how do I overcome everything in my way? But now…"

"What's changed?" Ron asked.

"Now that I can see a way out, I'm noticing the things that I've been missing," Felix muttered. "The other night, I was driving my van home and I drove by the Possibles' house and saw you, Kim and her brothers having a big snowball fight out in the front yard. Nobody has a problem nailing you with a snowball, since they know that you'll just laugh it off and throw one right back. Nobody has ever hit me with one; they see this chair and think that I'm too frail."

"And now there's your girlfriend," Ron supplied.

"Yeah," Felix admitted. "I keep remembering you and Kim, Oscar and Cindy, Josh and Tara, and even Brick and Monique camel fighting up at Lake Middleton. I also remember the other stuff you guys do, like how Kim likes to just run up and jump on your back, or tackle you when you're playing touch football with her brothers. I see that stuff and I wonder if Yori's thinking that she's missing out on something."

Ron lowered his head. He had never realized that he might be flaunting his abilities in front of his friend.

"No pity!" Felix snapped at him. "Don't feel bad about what you do with your friends. You guys invite me along and treat me just like one of the guys. I really appreciate it."

"Okay," Ron brought his head up again. "So you're looking at your situation in a different light."

"Yes," Felix agreed. "Then there's the…intimacy issue."

"Do you think that she's going to leave you over that?" Ron asked.

"I don't think so," Felix mused. "But I've been reading some so-called relationship experts, and most of them say that it's part of an adult relationship. I have to wonder if she's going to be missing out on something if she stays with me. Then there's what comes out of such a …physical relationship."

"Oh, kids?" Ron asked, after a few moments thought.

"Exactly," Felix nodded. "Sure, we're only seventeen, but we're going to be thinking that way in the next ten years or so. First of all, even if Yori and I don't stay together, I have to assume that anybody else I get involved with might want kids. What are they going to do when I tell them that I can't produce my half of the equation? It's no big deal for me; I learned that I couldn't father children at about the same time that I learned where children come from. But what about any girl who wants to get serious with me? Then there's mom."

"Your mom would like grandkids?" Ron asked.

"We've never talked about it," Felix answered. "I mean, what's the point of talking about it when we both know that I can't give her any? At least, not genetically related. I'm just wondering what will happen fifteen years from now, if she finds out I had the opportunity to become whole and turned it down."

"I think that your mother is a lot more understanding than that," Ron argued. "But I'll give you some free advice, worth every penny that you pay for it."

Felix inclined his head, inviting Ron to continue.

"I think you need to talk to Yori," Ron told his friend. "You don't need to tell her about your issue, or about the possible solution, but you need to find out how she thinks that…intimacy should fit into your relationship. Then you can decide if you need to bring up the other issues. You know you can always talk to me. Besides that, you can't be the only couple with your issue. Maybe we can find out how some of these other couples deal with it." The blonde boy snorted out a laugh, "I can remember when 'relationship issues' meant talking about what costumes we were going to be wearing for Halloween."

"I guess we're growing up," Felix smiled back. "But I think that's some good advice. I'll…"

The rest of their companions returned from the dance floor, interrupting the two boys' conversation. Kim and Cindy watched, anxiously, as the shy Larry approached Lisa and asked her to dance. The two cheerleaders shared a muffled celebration as the two they were observing made their way onto the floor. Soon, conversation at the table returned to previous topics.

For several minutes, the six teens discussed the upcoming holidays, the cheerleading and wrestling competitions that would take place shortly after the new year, and the putdown that Oscar had inflicted upon Bonnie. They also talked about how Hirotaka would be returning to Japan after the end of the current semester but Yori would remain for the spring semester. As the couples got to their feet and returned to the dance floor, Kim noticed that both her PF and Felix seemed less tense, as if they had dealt with whatever was bothering Felix.

* * *

Ed Lipsky walked into his halfway house with a serious smile on his face. Sure, with the cold winter, he couldn't really ride his new wheels to and from work, but the bus wasn't all that bad. What really had him happy was the fact that the parole board had chopped a couple more years off of his sentence. The fact that he went to work every night, and that he had told the bureau dudes that Red was getting too close to him, had seriously impressed that bunch. If he kept his nose clean for another year, they were seriously thinking of giving him a little free time.

The big man walked into the office and checked in with the staff. As always, the duty staffer confirmed that his transmitter was firmly in place before letting him head to his room. This was another thing that had Ed happy; he now had a private room, a reward for good behavior. Ed opened his door and stepped inside. He closed his door and reached for the light switch, only to be halted by a snarl.

"Don't make a sound!" a harsh voice hissed at him.

Ed turned on the light and turned around to see…

"Green babe?" He gasped at Shego. "Babe, it's not like I've never wanted to see you in my bedroom, seriously, but you're a felon and I can't be hangin' with you."

"Shut up, Ed," Shego hissed at him. The mercenary handed the big man a small object that looked like an oversized pill. "Swallow this!" She commanded.

"Hey babe," Ed replied. "If this is something to put me in the mood, or take care of some guy issues, I seriously don't need it. Now, we're gonna have to be quiet, but I'm willing to try if you are!"

"Ed," Shego informed him, with exaggerated patience. "I'm not here to sleep with you, I'm here to deliver you to someone else."

"Is she hot?" Ed asked.

"Listen you lunk," Shego hissed. "I'm not taking you to some stud farm, I'm kidnapping you and delivering you to someone who's going to put you to work. Now, you can come along quietly and painlessly, or you can fight it and get a lot of people, yourself included, hurt." Shego held up the object that she had told him to swallow. "This is a self-guiding tracking chip. Once it gets into your body cavity, it will make its way to the proper location. Now, I coated it with orange flavoring to make it more pleasant to swallow. On the other hand, if you let me pick the opening it goes in, the citric acid in the coating is going to be very irritating. What's your choice?"

The on duty staffer was jolted out of his paperwork-induced reverie, first by the sounds of fighting, then by a scream of unimaginable pain.

* * *

Yori was very content, seated comfortably across her boyfriend's lap, under a blanket, as he guided his wheelchair along the snow-covered sidewalks in Middleton Park. While being out on a snowy night like this might sound odd, Felix had taken a couple of precautions. First, the young genius had put specialty snow tires on his chair, providing him with excellent handling. Secondly, he had developed a small heater for the chair. The extra heat kept the pair warm and comfortable as they motored through the nearly deserted park.

The date had started somewhat uncomfortably for the Japanese girl. Her boyfriend had asked her about how she viewed a more intimate relationship and how important such a relationship was to her. Within a few minutes, she realized that he was not trying to manipulate her emotions; that he honestly wanted to know where she saw the two of them going, couple-wise. With that, the straightforward Japanese girl had given truthful answers and demanded the same in return. Soon, the date had turned into a mature discussion of what they both expected from life.

Now, with the discussion finished, the two simply enjoyed the solitude.

* * *

This was close to perfection.

That was the only thing Kim could think. She was seated with Ron in the back seat of the sleigh, sliding through Middleton Park. In the front seat, Oscar and Cindy guided the horse. The really didn't need to do so, the horse had been pulling wagons through the park for years and would probably follow the path, perfectly, with no direction. Still, it was a romantic setting.

It had taken Kim awhile to get her PF to calm down and get into the proper frame of mind. He had felt a little awkward, since the last time he had done this, he was with a different girl. However, she had managed to get him over his guilty feelings, allowing for some serious snuggle time. She heaved a happy sigh and looked over the park.

If she remembered correctly, when she and Monique had seen the two couples, last year, the night had been clear and calm. Tonight it was snowing, with just a breath of wind. Rather than make the date uncomfortable, the weather made it romantic. The large, thick snowflakes cut visibility down to a few dozen yards, making the sparsely populated park look deserted. Looking forward again, she saw some running lights appear, on the trail in front of them, through the obscuring curtain of snow.

Kim frowned for a moment, wondering why a vehicle would be on the park trail. A short time later, she realized that it was Felix's wheelchair and that the boy genius had Yori draped across his lap. Kim smiled again, glad that her two friends were also taking advantage of the park, and the free weekend. She grew confused when Ron broke their embrace and started gathering snow, from where it had piled on the back of the sleigh.

Felix heard horse's hooves on the trail behind him, so he guided his chair to the side of the trail. He took a quick glance back, just to assure himself that the driver had enough room to go by. His shock was complete when he had just enough time to recognize the two couples in the sleigh, before Ron's snowball hit him.

"Alright, he asked for it," he informed Yori, as he wiped the snow from the side of his face. "This is war! "

Both Yori and Felix gathered up handfuls of snow as Felix guided his chair up along the left side of the still-moving sleigh. Soon, a running snowball fight developed as Yori and Felix would approach the sleigh, have a furious exchange of snowballs with Kim and Ron, then back off and rearm themselves. Before long, Kim and Ron ran out of snow to throw back. Oscar stopped the sleigh (the horse was utterly bored with the whole thing) so that the redhead and her PF could jump out and reload. Ron had just taken aim at his best, male, human friend when he was ambushed.

Kim tackled the unsuspecting Ron, dropping him onto his back in the deepening snow. He howled in betrayed outrage and moved to get up, only to feel his PF wrap her arms around his neck and bring her mouth to his. Lost in the kiss, he was completely unprepared for the double handful of snow that she dropped down the back of his shirt.

This prompted an absolute free for all snowball fight, even including Oscar and Cindy. Finally, the six teens got together and built a large snowman, before continuing their previous dating activity.

"Ron," Oscar addressed his friend, as they continued the sleigh ride. "Why did you start that snowball fight with Felix?"

"Therapy," Ron answered, with a huge grin.

* * *

"Felix-kun," Yori said to the young man upon whose lap she sat. "Is this normal American dating activity?" The Japanese girl was very happy, but curious.

"Not even close to normal," her boyfriend informed her. "Did you enjoy it."

"Indeed, Felix-kun," she smiled. "I find such energetic and unorthodox activities to be most…agreeable."

Felix smiled but later that night, after dropping Yori off, he sent an email to the private account Mr. Loward had given him.

* * *

_A/N:_

_Thanks again for reading. Sorry if the update came a little late, but I put in some time writing an entry into Zaratan's Halloween contest. I hope to continue to update once per week. _

_My fondest thanks go to everyone who has taken the time to leave a review or to send a PM. Encouragement and ideas are always welcome for someone with my limited intellect._

_A big thanks to Joe Stoppinghem for beta reading._

_'till next update, best wishes;_

_daccu65_


	39. The Holidays' Rocky Start

Chapter 39: The Holidays' Rocky Start

Kim dropped her books into her locker with a feeling of euphoria. She had just finished the last day of school, before the holiday break. There were no cheerleading or wrestling workouts, no rehearsals or committee meetings, just two-plus weeks away from formal education. Ordinarily, she didn't feel this kind of joy about getting away from school, but now she had more to look forward to. Christmas with the fam and Ron had always been fun, but Christmas with the fam and her BFPF promised to be so much better.

The sleigh ride Saturday night had been even better than she could have hoped for. The sleigh ride itself had been highly romantic, the snowball fight had been a lot of fun, and dumping the snow down Ron's back had been right down demonic. Of course, warming Ron up afterwards had been a great deal of fun as well. She was looking forward to the Christmas snowball fight with Ron and the tweebs, followed by cuddling with Ron on the couch.

Wade interrupted her contemplation, appearing on her computer screen.

"Kim," he reported. "Global Justice and the Colorado Department of Corrections just contacted the site. Shego has broken Motor Ed out of his house arrest facility!"

"What!" Kim snapped. "I thought he was trying to go straight."

"He may be, Kim," Dr. Director's image appeared on the screen. "Global Justice is monitoring this investigation, since Shego is involved. Anyway, the press release is indicating that Motor Ed went willingly; however, it appears that he actually fought Shego. I am inviting you to attend a full briefing in Canon City."

"Sure," Kim replied. "Ron should be here in a few minutes and we can go…"

"Kim!" Wade's image reappeared, taking up half the computer screen. "We have another request for Team Possible to deal with a Pump overdose."

"Swell," Kim muttered. "What's the sitch with it?"

"It's an emergency," Wade informed her. "And it's about sixty yards to your right, Room 122."

"You mean…" Kim trailed off.

"Yes," Wade confirmed his face somber. "It's in Middleton High."

"Take the drug issue," Dr. Director instructed her. "Let Global Justice, and State and Local Law Enforcement deal with the Motor Ed investigation."

"On it!" Kim answered, slamming her locker shut and pulling out her Kimmunicator. "Where's Ron?"

"He's at the other end of the school," Wade informed her. "He'll be there in a few but there are other students in danger right now."

"I'm going in," Kim growled, the crowd scattering in front of her charging form. "Just get him here as fast as you can!" With no further comment, Kim charged into Room 122.

She ran into a chaotic scene. Several broken desks littered the floor and about a dozen terrified students, with a battered teacher, cowered against one wall. A single girl stormed around the center of the room, destroying additional desks. While Kim couldn't come up with a name for the girl, she recognized her as one of the school's better gymnasts.

"You people just don't know when to back off, do you?" The girl shrieked at the cowering mass in front of her. "I try and try, but it's never good enough! I finally won regionals on the floor exercise but you want me to win the uneven bars as well! I get a B in Geography, but now I get a holiday assignment! I've had it!" The girl punctuated the last statement by hurling a desk at the cowering mass of humanity. The students barely avoided the mass of wood and metal.

"Okay, why don't we just try to calm down?" Kim asked, moving in between the girl and the rest of the room's occupants. "There's no need to do this."

"Oh, so now you bring in Miss Perfect, Kim Possible?" The girl growled. "Fine!" She hurled herself at Kim.

Kim dodged the oncoming gymnast and the girl kept right on going, towards the mass of panicking students. With no choice, Kim hurled herself on the girl's back, clamping a carotid artery choke onto the raging student.

Unfortunately for the redhead, she had neither Ron's mass, nor his grappling skill. Her opponent was both athletic and chemically charged. The girl thrashed and spun, managing to throw Kim off of her back. Kim tumbled gracefully and sprang to her feet. Fortunately, the girl was now focused on her, rather than the terrified students. She charged Kim once again, throwing a wild haymaker.

Kim sidestepped the charge, directed the blow past her and used a foot to trip her opponent. The girl went down but was quickly back on her feet, flailing at the redhead. Kim blocked and dodged, entertaining a hope of allowing the other girl to wear herself out or perhaps delaying her until Ron could show up and help subdue her. At first, this plan worked beautifully as Kim effortlessly parried the gymnast's untrained blows. But then, when Kim sidestepped the girl's latest lunge, the furious girl grabbed another desk and hurled it at Kim. Kim dodged but the desk barely missed another student. The gymnast grabbed another desk and Kim realized that she couldn't stay on defense.

Kim sprang forward and planted a knee into the assailant's midsection. The girl staggered back, but came forward again. Kim redirected another clumsy blow and countered with an elbow to her opponent's face. She flinched when she felt the cartilage, in the girl's nose, collapse but she couldn't let up. Ducking under her opponent's flailing arms, Kim drove two fists into the girl's belly then sprang up, driving her knee into the girl's descending chin. The girl fell to her back and didn't get back up.

Kim only had a few moments to look, horror-struck, at her fellow student before Mr. Barkin's bellow snapped everybody out of his or her shock.

"Alright people, LISTEN UP!" He roared, storming into the classroom with Ron on his heals. "You and you," the big man pointed at two of the terrified students, "will assist Mr. Gerts to the Nurse's Office, then go to my office, understand?"

The two students nodded and went to assist the battered teacher.

The rest of you will go to my office, immediately. You will not speak to anybody, not even each other, about this incident until after you have spoken to me, is that clear?"

More nods answered the big man.

"Then why are you still standing around?"

His question prompted a miniature stampede for the door.

"Not you Possible, Stoppable," he rumbled, when the two teems moved to join their fellow students. "Stoppable, take Possible to the girl's room so that she can get cleaned up. The two of you will then go directly to the Principal's Office. I'll stay here until the proper authorities arrive."

"Cleaned u.." Kim stammered, then looked down at her hands; at a smear of the girl's blood on one of her hands.

With a shriek, Kim Possible sprinted for the bathroom, leaving Ron struggling to keep up.

* * *

Monique Jenkins rushed into the bathroom to find her best friend desperately scrubbing her hands.

"Alright girlfriend," she drawled, leaning against a wall. "What's your damage? Word has it you had some sort of smack down in one of the classrooms."

"We had another Pump overdose," Kim snarled, squirting more soap into her hands and lathering up again.

"Here!? In Middleton High?" Monique's eyes were very wide.

"Yeah here!" Kim snapped. "Ron didn't make it in time and I had to take her down myself."

"Hold on here girlfriend!" Monique insisted. "You've smacked down the bad guys before. What's got you so amped this time?"

"I've never had to knock out a teen!" Kim wailed. "Smacking down the bad guys was always so cut and dried; you go to the lair, track down some guy trying to do something really nasty and rough him up a little. Then Global Justice, or some other group, shows up and takes 'em away. I'm not supposed to beat up a girl in a school."

"How do you think Ron handles it?" Monique asked. "Didn't he take down Janine, or whoever she was, up in Upperton?"

"Yeah but Ron took her down without all the damage!" Kim sobbed. "Mon, I felt her nose collapse when I hit her!" Kim looked down and saw a smear of the girl's blood on her elbow. With a yelp, she tore off her shirt and stuffed it in the trash before going back to scrubbing her hands.

"Girlfriend, you're not going to have any hands left," Monique advised. "Hang tight here, I'll see if I can find something for you to wear."

Kim only had a few moments alone before Monique returned.

"Here," the girl tossed a garment to Kim. Kim quickly recognized it as the bowling shirt her PF had worn to school that day.

"Ron's a good guy," Monique continued. "He, quite literally, gave you the shirt off his back. He's got some nice pecs, by the way."

"Is he still out there?" Kim growled.

"Yeah," Monique giggled a little. "He was about to storm in here but Yori, Hirotaka and Oscar stopped him. Since Yori and Hirotaka can outfight him and Oscar can outwrestle him, he doesn't have much choice."

Kim snorted a mirthless laugh and pulled on Ron's shirt. She gave herself a quick once-over and headed towards the door. Monique intercepted her.

"Okay, girlfriend, what's got you so tweaked at Ron?"

Kim glared at her friend for a few moments before she realized that she wouldn't be able to deny being tweaked.

"If he had just gotten there a minute or two earlier," the redhead growled. "It wouldn't have been this bad. I could have played the distraction while he took her out with a choke or grappled her. That's teamwork. But he didn't show until it was all over."

"Hold on a minute," Monique protested. "Don't you think you're getting awful harsh? I mean, he was on the other end of the school when this went down."

"You've seen him run on the football field," Kim informed her friend.

"Yeah," Monique agreed. "I've seen him move when he knew he had to break into a run. What I'm wondering is, just how fast could he get through crowded hallways, full of people he didn't want to run over? You really think he was lollygaging?"

"I don't think he meant for it to happen," Kim muttered. "I don't think he was taking it as seriously as he should have been."

"That's not what I think," Monique answered. "I think that you're feeling guilty about decking someone who wasn't some sort of bad guy and you're trying to find someone to blame for it. Your BFPF is a handy target. We're about to break for the holidays and I remember you telling me how much you were looking forward to having a serious boyfriend over the break. If I were you, I'd deal with this really quick."

"Oh, I'll deal with it," Kim grumbled. "I'll have a talk with Ron about not showing up until it's all over. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to go let Barkin rip me a new one for letting something like this take place on his watch."

Monique flinched as her best friend stormed out of the bathroom and curtly collected her BFPF, before storming off to the Principal's Office.

* * *

"We have decided that you need some assistance," the polite man informed Dr. Drakken. Instinctively, the blue scientist clutched at his neck.

"Oh, were not going to torture you without cause," the man looked amused at Drakken's antics. "Rather, we've acquired some help for you. As you said, you are no mechanical genius so we brought in such an individual to assist you."

With that, the polite man stepped away from the door, making space for a hooded figure to stumble inside, prodded by the green, mystery woman. The polite man grabbed a chair and set it behind the captive. The green woman seized the captive and forced him to sit.

"Dr. Drakken," the polite man said. "Why don't you untie your new teammate? I'm sure you'll want to get right to work."

Taking the hint, Drakken unfastened the clasp holding the mask on the captive's head. He pulled off the mast to reveal…

"Ed?"

"Whoa, cuz," the big, blonde man replied. "What do you have going on here, seriously? I mean, the green babe shows up at my pad and hauls me off here and then, seriously, you're here too. I mean, I heard that your plane went down, seriously."

"Ed," Drakken patiently explained. "We're here because these…less than nice people have acquired our services, to do something rather nasty."

"Whoa, cuz, no can do, seriously!" Ed insisted. "The parole board will have some serious problems if I do something like that!"

"Ed," Drakken tried again. "The parole board is the least of you problems right now."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously!"

"Alright cuz," the big man jumped to his feet. "I'm out of here, seriously."

With that statement, Motor Ed jumped to his feet, spun around and came face to face with the non-jolly green giant.

"Whoa," Ed gasped. Ed wasn't used to looking up at anybody, much less a woman. "Cuz, I have to admit it. You've got a thing for green babes, seriously! Now," the big man turned back to the towering green woman. "I was just set to clear out but that depends on how much you want me to stay, seriously."

"Oh, I want you to stay in the worst way," the woman replied in a husky voice.

"Oh, dear me," Drakken muttered, trying to figure out why that voice had a touch of…familiarity to it.

Quick as a striking snake, the woman reached out and seized the blonde by the front of his shirt and lifted him off the ground. With her other hand, she clamped a collar on his neck.

"Whoa, I'm really not into this kind of thing," Ed pointed out. "But I'm willing to give it a run, seriously! What's next?"

"Oh, I'll show you what happens when you don't do what I say," She smiled, producing a control.

Drakken closed his eyes as the woman pushed a button on the control. He tried to block out Ed's shriek.

"Whoa babe," the big man gasped. "That's not something I usually do, seriously, but I'm willing to give it another try. Aren't we supposed to agree on a safe word, or something like that, seriously?"

Drakken could only shake his head as the woman adjusted something on the control, then pushed the button again. Ed's scream was clearly one of pain this time and he slumped to the ground when the woman released the switch.

"Now I think you understand your situation, Ed," the polite man informed the blonde. "We have brought you here to perform a task for us. I'll leave you to speak to your cousin. He will tell you that we don't demand the impossible here, just solid effort. What we want from you is well within your expertise."

"Oh!" He exclaimed, turning back to the two Lipskys, just as he and the green woman were about to leave. "Take some time to watch our benefactor's press briefing today. I'm sure you'll find it very informative."

With that, the polite man exited the laboratory area, followed by the gigantic, green woman. Drew Lipsky helped his cousin stumble to a chair and set down.

"This is really rank, seriously," the big man grumbled. "I was looking to get out, scot-free in a couple of years." He shook his head. "What is it with you and the green babes, cuz, seriously?"

"Green bab-," Drakken murmured, replaying his reunion in his mind. "You saw Shego?!"

"Yeah, cuz, she's the one that nabbed me, seriously. "

"So she knows that you're here, wherever here is?"

"I don't know, cuz," Ed hated to stifle his cousin's enthusiasm. "I heard her say something about delivering me to someone else. Some time ago, someone tore that mask off of me, shone a seriously bright light in my face, then put the mask back on and stuffed me in some kind of van. I dunno if she knows where I am right now, seriously."

"Never mind," a crestfallen Drakken muttered. "I may as well show you to your quarters. Our benefactor has prepared another room, so it must be for you. Are you able to walk?"

Ed Lipsky had recovered from the shock treatment. His cousin led him through another door and into what had to be some sort of living wing. There was a small gym, pool and kitchen area. A hallway, on the side of the living quarters opposite the laboratory, looked like a motel hallway. While the room his cousin led him to was smaller than his room at the house arrest facility, it was nicer and he didn't have any roommates. Drew gave Ed some privacy, to change into some clean clothes that were in the room, before the big man rejoined him in the kitchen area. Rather than provide a meal, the blue man led Ed back to the lab.

"Cuz, this seriously tanks," the big man complained. "I thought I'd get a little time to catch the vibe around here, seriously."

"No time like the present, Ed," Drew informed his cousin, while activating some equipment he had assembled. This equipment made a very unpleasant buzzing sound.

"There," Drew said, with satisfaction. "This should interfere with any listening devices in here. Now Ed, I noticed that you're walking strangely. What happened to you."

"That green babe that worked for you," Ed groused. "When she grabbed me, she gave me some thing she wanted me to swallow, seriously. I didn't want to take it, since Ed seriously doesn't need the blue pills." The big man looked a little puzzled. "When did they make that stuff into a suppository, anyway? 'Cuz using it that way would kill the mood that made you want it in the first place, seriously!"

"Supposit…" Drew wondered. "Wait, did Shego shove something up y-"

"Don't want to talk about it, seriously!" Ed growled.

"Live with it!" Drew snapped back. "What did she say about it."

"Something about it being a self-tracking guiding chip," Ed struggled to remember. "I figured it was for dudes that had some directional problems and Ed seriously doesn't have any of them."

"So you have a tracking chip in your body cavity," Drew concluded, momentarily elated. Then he returned to earth again. "Unfortunately, this facility is well shielded against radio frequency transmissions; I have no doubt that the signal is not being transmitted beyond these walls."

"So you're saying that the green babe put some sort of bug up my b-" Ed started to ask, only to be interrupted by Drakken.

"Yes, but keep quiet about it!" Drakken snapped. "It's not doing us any good at the moment but I might be able to figure something out."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

* * *

"Kim, I'm telling you, I got there as fast as I could," Ron was explaining to his girlfriend. The couple was sitting at their usual booth, in Bueno Nacho. "Okay, maybe I could have gotten there just a little faster, but I would have wound up knocking people out of my way, the whole way. I didn't know that things had already turned violent."

"Well they had," Kim grumbled, in a monotone. "Ron, you know how serious that type of situation can become! Because you took a few minutes to be polite, I had to punch a girl out. If you had arrived just forty seconds earlier, you could have grappled her and choked her out. Now, she's got a broken nose and massive bruising. She may even have a broken bone in her chin or even internal injuries! All because you were a few seconds late getting to the scene."

"Neither Mr. Barkin, nor the Principal, are blaming either one of us," Ron protested.

Kim had to concede the point. Both school officials, and the responding police, had stated that Kim had not used excessive force, that she had found herself in a situation that required controlled violence.

"That may be true," Kim snarled. "But I have higher standards than they do, that's why people call us when they need help. I know you could have gotten there sooner."

"Okay, KP, fine," Ron surrendered. "Next time, I won't be polite about it. I'm coming through the crowd and I don't care who gets in my way."

"Don't act like that!" Kim snapped.

"Like what?" Ron snapped right back.

"You're getting short with me!" Kim snarled.

"Ugh, Kim, if you want me to say I'm sorry again, I will," Ron sighed. "You've said that it's my fault, so fine, it's my fault that I didn't fight my way through the school. I just said that I won't do it again."

"Okay, fine," Kim harrumped.

"Fine," Ron snarled back.

"Uh, guys?" Felix interrupted.

"What!?" Both teens snapped back. Neither one called the jinx.

"Two things," the young genius replied, refusing to be cowed. "First, you weren't being very quiet and this is a public establishment. I'm sure Rita Richards will be overjoyed to bring your little…_conversation_…up during her next show."

"Secondly," he continued, while Kim and Ron both flinched. "The news channel is about to have a press conference, which includes International Manufacturing. I'd like to see it, so do you mind if I change the channel?"

Kim and Ron looked around and realized that there weren't many people in the restaurant and that the few people weren't looking at the television.

"Feel free," Kim said. Ron nodded.

With that, Felix pulled a homemade control out of his pocket and changed the Bueno Nacho television to the news channel. The picture showed a typical room used for press conferences, with a swarm of reporters seated, facing a podium. The podium had a US State Department Seal on the front.

"…and we are expecting a major announcement any second," the announcer declared, as Felix turned up the volume. "Secretary of State…Oh, here she is now, let's listen."

The four teens, Yori was there with Felix, watched as the US Secretary of State took a position behind the podium.

"Good afternoon," she addressed her audience. "As you all know, the United States has been involved in four way negotiations with the People's Republic of China, Japan, and the Russian Federation for several months. The goal of these negotiations has been to eliminate additional, strategic nuclear weapons. It is my pleasure to announce that all parties have found the terms acceptable and dismantling is scheduled to begin in a matter of weeks."

"This agreement," she continued, accompanied by some incredulous murmuring. "Will eliminate all land-based, Chinese ICBMs and all submarine-based ICBMs currently in the Chinese, Russian and United States arsenals. The real breakthrough came last week, when representatives of Japan and International Manufacturing made generous offers. International Manufacturing agreed to purchase all of the missiles, while Japan agreed to guard the warheads. To expedite the execution, International Manufacturing has purchased two small islands, located in the South Pacific. Japan shall provide a contingent of troops, who will store and guard the warheads on one island, while International Manufacturing makes use of the missiles on the other island."

Kim, Ron, Felix and Yori all started to chatter about this development. Kim and Ron, in particular, had a greater interest in international agreements than the typical teen. The four agreed that the world's bad guys would soon develop an intense interest in the islands. Finished with their discussion, the four teens returned their attention to the television, where the Secretary was fielding questions.

"..will International Manufacturing make of these missiles?" One reporter was asking the Secretary.

"For that, I would like to call Mr. Warrick Loward, the President and CEO of International Manufacturing, to the podium," the Secretary answered. "Mr. Loward."

The secretary stepped away from the podium while a fit, middle-aged man approached. The assembled press went into an absolute frenzy of whispered gossip."

"I thought he was…" Kim stammered, looking at Felix.

"Confined to a wheelchair?" Felix finished for her. "He was. Maybe he'll talk about what happened." Felix gestured to the television and the four teens returned their attention to the conference.

"Thank you, Madame Secretary," the industrialist said, upon reaching the microphone. "Ladies and gentlemen, to put it bluntly, the time has come to exploit space, commercially. International Manufacturing is ready to become the leader in this effort, by establishing a profitable, asteroid mining program. We will use these missiles, instruments of war, to launch mining robots into space, thereby turning them into instruments of prosperity. We will launch our robots from the uninhabited island, under UN supervision. This will provide a safe method of disposing of the missiles themselves."

"Mr. Loward," another reporter chimed in. "I'm no engineer, but I do know that these missiles are not designed to propel a payload beyond Earth's gravity. In addition, I cannot believe that these robots would be more compact than the warheads. How do you intend to overcome these obstacles?"

"My engineers have already developed a system to tandem-fire multiple missiles," Warrick Loward answered. "They assure me that they can even tandem fire completely different launching bodies, thereby acquiring the lift necessary to escape Earth's gravity. We are prepared to perform a test fire, putting a sensor package on the moon, within weeks of acquiring the first missiles."

"That's really impressive," Felix commented. Kim was sure that her father would describe the technical difficulties, in great detail, later that night. Kim returned her attention to the briefing, where the topic had changed to the robotic mining machines.

"While we haven't finalized the design," the industrialist was explaining. "I have an engineer's concept to show you." Here, a projection appeared behind him. "As you can see, we intend to build quadrapedal units. The limbs can act as either supports or digging tools. Each robot shall be equipped with its own power supply and industrial laser. I fully expect to have these robots in production by the time we execute the moon launch."

"So, is this the sort of work you expect to be doing?" Ron asked his best, male, human friend.

"I'd love it!" Felix answered. "The challenges of designing functional robotics that can handle the rigors of space…wow!" Ron swore the other boy was on the verge of salivating.

Back on the television, Mr. Loward was now answering questions about his physical condition.

"I've recently funded some experimental, unorthodox, medical research," he was explaining. "This was something of a desperation move on my part, since my life was in danger. However, I'm hoping to offer such treatment to the public, before too much longer. Currently, we have built a preliminary treatment facility, on the same island from which we will conduct our launches. As you can see, I have suffered no ill effects from this treatment program."

Kim was certainly no doctor, she wasn't even interested in following in her mother's footsteps. Medicine was a bad choice for a person who tended to launch her latest meal at the sight of human innards. However, she was aware that anything that had cured Mr. Loward of his condition must be truly advanced medicine. The implications for her PF's best buddy were obvious.

Yet, when Kim looked to Ron she saw that he wasn't looking at his friend with excitement. He was looking at his friend with calculating contemplation.

* * *

_A/N:_

_Thanks again for reading, and sorry for the delay in posting the update. Again, I would like to express my appreciation for the reviews and PM's,both positive and negative, thatI have received. _

_A big thanks to Joe Stoppinghem, for his beta service._

_'till my next update, best wishes:_

_daccu65_


	40. Holiday Fun

Chapter 40: Holiday Fun

Despite her lingering feelings of aggravation towards Ron, Kim had to admit that this was the best Christmas she could remember. First of all, Joss, Slim and Nana had made the trip to Middleton. Secondly, most of her friends were in town for the Holidays, meaning that she was absolutely surrounded by friends and family. The day before Christmas Eve had been wonderful.

It had started with Ron trotting by the Possible House, towing Hanna on a toboggan. Of course, Joss just couldn't let her idol and his cute little sister go by without running out to greet them. The tweebs were outside shortly after their cousin, tackling Ron into a snowbank. Kim was ready to join them when a mission came up; her Nana instructed her to retrieve that cute, Asian child so that she could fuss over her.

With Hanna safely in the house, Joss was able to join the other four for a preview of their yearly, Christmas Day snowball fight. The five youngsters enjoyed themselves immensely, until Hanna started to get restless. The toddler wanted her toboggan ride around town. Kim was somewhat torn between wanting to go with Ron and spending time with the fam. Joss helped make up her mind by reminding her that she had never had a tour of the city. Nana then informed her that she should get outside and get a little color in her cheeks. The tweebs grabbed sleds of their own and the five were soon rambling around the neighborhood.

The Possible/Stoppable pack walked and talked for perhaps a quarter of an hour. Ron was rather distracted, since Hanna gave him directions by pelting him with snowballs. Eventually, they reached the sledding hill that the Middleton youngsters had been using for years. At this point, they introduced Hanna to the joys of sledding.

Hanna, of course, loved it. Although it was kid's stuff, Kim found herself getting swept up in the fun that her PF, cousin, and brothers absolutely radiated. They had sledded for over an hour when Oscar and Cindy showed up. Oscar was every bit the overgrown kid that Ron was, so the late-arriving couple was soon sledding with the rest. Perhaps not surprisingly Joss, the Montana ranch girl and Oscar, the transplanted North Dakotan, got along quite well. At one point, Kim climbed to the top of the hill and overheard the two talking about Rocky Mountain Oysters.

Kim was puzzled about this. She was aware that there were certain freshwater mussel species that lived in the Rockies, but she didn't think that any oyster species lived in fresh water. Curious, she asked the two about them.

"Well, they ain't exactly an oyster," Joss told her, while Oscar seemed to be struggling with a bit of a smirk. "I guess you could call 'em a kind of muscle, but that ain't exactly accurate, either."

"Why is it that I've spent my entire life in the Rocky Mountain foothills, and I've never heard of them, but Oscar has?"

"It's not so much a mountain vs. plains thing as it's a city vs. country thing," Joss told her. "They're a lot more popular around ranches."

"They're not exactly a main course," Oscar explained. 'They're sort of like a snack, kind of like buffalo wings."

"Yeah, at the right time of year, there's plenty of 'em," Joss continued. "Some of the taverns and bars have feeds. Heck, some towns have festivals where they serve a heap of 'em."

"Oh, sort of a celebration?" Kim asked, still confused. The whole thought of small towns, in the Midwest, having shellfish feeds seemed odd.

"Oh it's a great time," Joss answered. "Everyone shows up and gets a little nuts."

"What's wrong with you?" Kim demanded of Oscar, who seemed to be having trouble keeping a straight face.

"Nothing," he answered, in a rather higher pitched voice than usual.

"Tell you what, cuz," Joss interrupted. "I'll let you know about the next festival I hear about. If you can make it, you'll have a ball."

Oscar snorted and sprinted away, grabbing a sled and diving onto the hill. Kim knew that somehow, she was the butt of some joke but Hanna complained about getting cold before the redhead could question her cousin. Soon, Ron was towing his little sister back home, with Joss perched on the toboggan behind her. Somehow, Kim's cousin had convinced everyone that the toddler needed some cuddling to keep her warm and she was the smallest one available.

Upon reaching the Possible Home, Kim 'said goodbye' to her PF in a manner that left her brothers gagging and her cousin grinning. Ron trotted off for home, dragging Hanna behind him, while the Possibles made their way inside. Once she was comfortably planted in front of the fireplace, with a cup of hot chocolate in hand, Kim asked her Uncle Slim about Rocky Mountain Oysters.

Her uncle's droopy mustache hid most of his expression but there was a devilish twinkle in his eye as he provided vague answers. Nana, on the other hand, suffered a severe bout of tittering every time Kim pressed for a straightforward answer. Frustrated, Kim retreated to her room and called up a search engine on her computer. Minutes later, some of the color that her Nana insisted she obtain made an appearance on her face. Rocky Mountain Oysters were…

"JOSS!" Kim's shout, which preceded her out of her room and downstairs, sent her cousin scrambling for a hiding place and left her Nana and uncle immobilized with laughter. Kim tore through the house, intent on pinning her cousin down and inflicting a lecture on proper decorum. The raging redhead had just caught up to Joss when Wade called, informing Kim that Bonnie was in the Middleton Medical Center's Psychiatric Wing.

* * *

"So you are ready to undergo your transformation?" The woman who used to be known as DNAmy asked her benefactor.

"During the second week of January," Warrick answered. "I have a few loose ends to tie up and I need to maintain my current appearance to perform these tasks. How long do you estimate it will take me to complete this…evolution?"

"Somewhere between three and four weeks," Amy answered. "The exact time is uncertain."

"A one week leeway is perfectly acceptable,' Warrick assured his employee and…paramour? "This will give me enough time to prepare myself for the events that will take place in the spring."

"Do you think you may be pushing the timetable too much?" Amy asked. "True, Drakken has the distribution and weapons systems almost perfected and Ed should be able to come up with proper locomotion systems, but you're not giving yourself much time to construct the robots before the target execution date."

"It's a difficult timing issue," Warrick admitted. "If we move too soon, we will not be properly prepared, as happened with Drakken. On the other hand, if we do not move soon enough, we may be discovered." He smiled at the larger woman, "don't worry, soon this world that ostracized us will be ours to rule."

"I find myself wondering about Drakken," Amy admitted. "What kind of world do we want to rule?"

"I see no reason why we cannot be kindly," Warrick assured her. "I don't want to rule a world of starving paupers, and I don't think that you do, either. We will simply seize control and reward talent in all its forms, no matter who has it. Like this young man, Mr. Renton." Mr. Loward produced a picture of Felix.

"He's agreed to the transformation?" Amy asked.

"He's agreed to the cure," Warrick corrected her. "The transformation will be our reward to those who serve us well. We will cure Mr. Renton of his affliction and discuss the transformation, with him, afterwards. I've discussed some tentative scheduling with him and it appears that the young man will be safe and oblivious in his artificial womb when we make our move."

"What about Drakken's suggestion?" Amy asked.

"The wireless power distribution system?" Warrick asked. Amy nodded.

"We will implement it," he decided. "It's an excellent suggestion; A quick, reliable power distribution system will be invaluable in recovering from the inevitable violence. It will also give us another method of controlling the populace."

"How about the Lipsky boys," Amy asked, eliciting a laugh from Warrick. "What will become of them after we rule the world?"

"We will keep them on our staff," Warrick decided. "I see no need to dispose of them but I don't like the idea of another, potential world conqueror running loose. Besides, they are quite useful, given the proper motivation."

At that moment, the subjects of Warrick and Amy's discussion were in the laboratory, hard at work.

"Cuz, I don't understand this, seriously," Ed groused to Drakken. He had to raise his voice to be heard over the blue man's bug-inhibiting buzzer. "Didn't you say that the little green babe wouldn't be able to track that bug?"

"This is true," Drakken muttered, typing at a keyboard. "But we have two things working for us. First, she was probably tracking you when you were brought here. This should give her a rough idea where you were taken. She may even know which city we are currently in at this time."

"Okay, that's something, cuz," Ed nodded. "What's the second thing?"

"I may be able to project the bug's signal over the power grid for short bursts," Drakken informed his cousin.

"Okay, seriously, I don't know what that means."

"Remember that plug-in intercom my mother gave you for your twelfth birthday?" Drakken asked.

"Oh, yeah," Ed nodded. "It was great, seriously. I had one in my workshop and ma had the other one in the kitchen. She could talk to me any time she wanted to, it seriously rocked."

"The intercom piggybacked the audio signal on the house's AC wiring," Drakken told him, then paused at Ed's blank look. "It's sort of like giving a passenger a ride when your bike has a one person seat," the blue man explained. "You can't take them very far."

"Okay, I think I'm seriously starting to understand," Ed replied. "You think you can make my bug squawk over the power lines?"

"I'm going to have to make some modifications to deal with the irregular antenna but yes, that's what I'm going to attempt."

"Whoa, cuz, seriously!" Ed's eyes suddenly grew wide and he backed away from his cousin. "What do you mean by modify? There is noooo way you're gonna take any tools up my-"

"Ed!" Drakken interrupted. "I am not going to venture where no man has gone before. These tracking chips can be reconfigured remotely, if you know the proper codes and procedures."

"So how do you know the proper codes and procedures, seriously?" Ed demanded.

"Who do you think builds them for Henchco?" Drakken smirked. "The profits from these little devices help fund my take over the world schemes!" Suddenly, Drakken grew melancholy. "At least, they used to."

"If you're so smart, why didn't you just whip up one of these things, seriously?" Ed wasn't quite ready to acknowledge that his cousin had a plan.

"Because I didn't know if anybody was listening!" Drakken snapped back. "I also didn't know what frequency to transmit on. Now, your little passenger will give me the information I need to get a message out."

"Cuz," Ed made one last argument. "I ain't as dumb as a lot of people think, seriously. If you use the whole power grid as some kind of antenna, she isn't going to be able to lock onto our location, seriously."

"This is true, Ed," Drakken answered, now smiling again. "But sometimes being able to transmit can be just as useful as what you are transmitting."

"Dude, I seriously don't understand that."

"You will," Drakken replied, while thinking. "_I hope that Shego and Monty can figure this out."_

"Okay, I can dig that you've got some sort of plan to bust us outta here, seriously," Ed conceded. "Now, I ain't much use with the electric gizmos but what can I do to help?"

"Finish working on the gear assemblies," Drakken told him.

"Seriously?" Ed couldn't believe his ears.

"Seriously!" Drakken emphasized. "There's no guarantee that my efforts will bear fruit, so we have to keep on their good side, at least until we find our opportunity to get even."

* * *

"It appears that Junior tried to give Bonnie the twelve days of Christmas," Wade reported to Kim and Ron. The two teens had tried to visit Bonnie, at the Medical Center, but Kim's rival hadn't wanted to see them. Now, Christmas morning found them discussing the situation with Wade.

"I don't understand," Ron admitted.

"Just like the song," Wade told him. "He gave her a partridge in a pear tree on one day, two turtle doves the next day, then three French hens the day after that."

"Okay, I get the gift idea, but what was so bad that it left her a couple of beans short of a full burrito?" Ron asked.

"Things started to really go downhill after the five gold rings," Wade informed him. "There were geese, swans, dairy cattle, milkmaids, lords and ladies involved. The Rockwaller family didn't know what to do with them all. About the time the FBI started looking into the fact that she was receiving people, the city and county officials started to look into the noise and livestock ordinance violations. Add the grief she was taking from her sisters, after she had lorded her romantic gifts over them, and you have a scenario for a proud, driven girl to go a little bonkers."

"Not to mention the efforts she's been putting in on the squad," Kim added. "She has really been driving herself to excel, even more than usual."

"I guess it all sort of added up on her," Ron suggested. The other two agreed.

"Anyway, it's about time I let the two of you enjoy your Christmas," Wade told them. "I'll sign off now. Merry Christmas you two."

"Merry Christmas," they both offered to their younger friend. The situation seemed wrong to try to call a jinx. Kim returned the Kimmunicator to the charging cradle and the two left her room and descended to the main floor, too join in the festivities. In addition to the extended Possible Clan, the Stoppables were present, en masse, as well.

"Freeze you two!" Joss's exuberant voice called out. The two, teen members of Team Possible dutifully stopped, just as they were entering the crowded den. "Look up," Kim's younger cousin instructed.

Kim and Ron did so and saw the sprig of mistletoe that Joss had covertly hung. Kim and Ron didn't go all out with the resulting kiss, but it still wasn't a chaste peck. Kim glanced around the room as her lips were locked with Ron's. The tweebs were complaining about cooties while her father and Mrs. Stoppable looked a little uncomfortable. Hanna was giggling, Mr. Stoppable, her mother, and Nana looked quietly pleased and Joss was, of course, urging them to 'suck some serious face.'

The two teens broke their display of affection so that Ron could join Nana, Mrs. Possible and Mrs. Stoppable in the kitchen. The two, adult Possible brothers went to work on the eggnog machine while Kim drew the dubious honor of trying to keep her brothers and younger cousin in line. Fortunately, the traditional, physical activities had worn the younger Possibles out a great deal and Joss seemed more interested in doting on Hanna than making trouble. Soon, the combined Possible and Stoppable clans were gathered around the dinner table.

After a wonderful meal, the families retired to the den for presents and eggnog. For the first time, the Possibles' Den seemed almost crowded, with all of the people stuffed inside.

"Kimberly," her Nana suggested. "I think that you and Ronald can help with the seating arrangements, don't you?"

Ron was completely clueless, of course, so Kim, blushing furiously, seated her PF on the couch and seated herself on his lap. Again, the tweebs gagged; Mr. Possible and Mrs. Stoppable looked a little uncomfortable; Mrs. Possible, Mr. Stoppable, Slim and Nana looked pleased, and Joss cheered. With the seating arrangements settled, the tweebs and Joss distributed the presents. As expected, Hanna wound up with an enormous pile of gifts. The toddler also received the lion's share of the attention, as everyone enjoyed watching her unwrap her presents, with Rufus's help. The tweebs even interrupted their discussion of 'Holiday Season, mistletoe initiated, couch-generated cooties' too watch the little girl's delighted expressions.

After the presents, the group broke up, with some watching movies, some singing carols, and a certain duo finding a quiet corner for some discreet snuggling.

"Merry Christmas, Ron," Kim whispered into the blonde's ear, while fingering the conjoined hearts pendant he had given her.

"Merry Christmas, KP," Ron murmured back, rubbing the promise ring that she had given him.

Unnoticed by the two, Mr. Dr. P and Mrs. Stoppable were looking at them with troubled expressions.

* * *

"I know that the circumstances aren't the best," Dr. Drakken told his cousin. "But it doesn't matter where we are. I still wish you a Merry Christmas." With that, the blue scientist handed his cousin a new socket set.

"Whoa, cuz, how did you get this, seriously?" The big man asked.

"Our captors aren't unreasonable, as you can see by the décor," Drew answered. The two men were lounging in the dinning area, where a Christmas Tree had been set up in one corner. "I requested that they obtain this and they agreed."

"This is rank, seriously," Ed grumbled. "I didn't think to get you anything!"

"It doesn't matter, Ed," Drakken assured his cousin. "It's the spirit of the season, not the gifts, that make it special."

"Okay, cuz," Ed replied. "But when are we going to do something about our…situation?"

"It's the Holiday truce," Drakken countered. "For the last several years, I've suspended my schemes so that everybody can enjoy the Holidays. This year will be no exception. However, after the New Year, our captors had better be on their toes."

With that, the Lipsky boys started a Snowman Hank DVD, watched and sang along.

* * *

"I'm not usually one to acknowledge the Holiday Season," Monty informed Shego. "And the circumstances seem rather dire, but I wish to take this opportunity to wish you all the happiness that I can."

With that, the former nobleman handed Shego a wrapped gift. For a moment, he swore he saw tears in the hardened mercenary's eyes.

"Monty," she stammered. "It's been ages since anybody has given me a Christmas present."

"I'm sorry that this gift is so humble," Fiske apologized. "Since it is so overdue."

Shego made a face at him and opened the gift. It turned out to be a box of gourmet chocolates.

"Monty, I used to love to snack on these when I worked for Drakken!"

"I recalled seeing you enjoy them," Fiske informed her. "So I thought that you would appreciate them, especially considering our current circumstances."

Shego frowned at that. Since turning Motor Ed over to Jack Hench's boys, they had managed to track him across the country, to one of the many industrial cities on the Great Lakes. There, they lost the signal and hadn't reacquired it, even after nearly a week of patient work. Furthermore, they would soon need to return to South America, too resume their duties with the smuggler's organization.

"Might I make a suggestion about our endeavors?" Fiske asked his companion.

"Suggest away," Shego replied, deciding which candy to eat first.

"Perhaps I should remain here and continue the search, while you return and maintain our status with our employers." Shego gave him an odd look, so he hastily continued, "our…duties with our employers requires a certain level of violence and ruthlessness while our endeavors here require a certain patience and discretion."

"Are you suggesting that I'm a little short tempered for this?" Shego asked, in a deadpan voice.

"Well…yes, I am," Monty admitted, then braced himself for an outburst. Instead, Shego favored him with a resigned smile.

"There aren't too many men who have the guts to say that right to my face," she said. "You're right, of course." She then speared one of the candies on her nail and offered it to her companion. "I'm good with your suggestion, just as long as you let me know everything you find out, as soon as you find it out."

"Omph crmph," Monty chewed and swallowed the caramel she had just fed him. "Of course, my dear. While I don't have the history with Dr. Drakken that you do, I have every intention of assisting you."

"Monty," the hardened mercenary told him, setting her gift to one side. "You don't know how rare something like that is, for someone like me."

* * *

Bonnie Rockwaller fumed, watching Christmas programs in her room at the Middleton Medical Center. She was more than a little peckish, since the kitchen staff had been allowed to feed the patients early and depart early on the holiday. While her mother and her sisters had visited her earlier that day, she was alone while they opened gifts at home. Of course, being alone was preferable to her sisters' company. Still, she wished that one of her friends would take time away from their family and spend some time with her.

Of course, the only friend who would take the time was Tara, and she was out of town for the Holidays. Bonnie indulged herself with a bitter snort. If either Possible, or the loser, were in the hospital over the holidays, she was sure that the other would be visiting them the entire time. Still, being alone gave her some time to try to find a way out of her predicament.

The mysterious supplier had given her a large quantity of Pump and would be expecting a large amount of money, very shortly. Unfortunately for Bonnie, her stay in the hospital had seriously cut down on her ability to move the stuff. As a result, she was going to have to resort to desperate measures once she got out. She was positive that the supplier wasn't going to be very understanding towards her problems.

Bonnie stifled a tear and fought down a feeling of guilt. Friendships, or relationships as close to friendships that she could manage, would have to be sacrificed. The only way that she could sell off the product would be to sell it to her posse and risk K finding out by selling to the cheer squad.

Bonnie leaned back, watching the sappy, nostalgic Christmas shows and tried to convince herself that nobody really acted like that. Nobody really put someone else's happiness over their own. It was a dog eat dog world, and Bonnie Rockwaller was determined come out on top.

* * *

A_/N: As you can probably tell, I've made shameless use of my 'cheerleader's tales' story, 'Bonnie's Christmas.' I hope you enjoyed this story, as well as the story you are currently reading. _

_I find myself overwhelmed by the response I've been getting. Thank you very much to everyone who has read this story, and has taken the time to leave a review._

_Big thanks to Joe Stoppinghem, once again, for his Beta service._

_'Till my next update, best wishes;_

_daccu65_


	41. The Break's Over

Chapter 41: The Break's Over

With school resuming, Ron and Kim found themselves increasingly busy. First of all, they had started their last semester of high school and both were determined to finish their high school education on a high note. Kim had already decided, even though she hadn't told Ron, that she would attend college as near to him as possible. Since she wanted to go to a top university, she was resolved to push him as much as she could, grade-wise.

Secondly, the teens were going into an intense athletic time. The drive was on for the state tournament, and Ron's goal, since last year, had been to place. Obviously, he had to get to the tournament in order to place, so he was driving himself harder than ever. As for Kim, cheer competitions were coming up at about the same time, so she was driving her squad to be at their absolute best. She was also keeping a couple of the girls under control; Bonnie had barely convinced her doctors to allow her to continue being on the cheer squad and Kim was determined to keep any of the girls from getting even with her rival. She so didn't need the best cheerleader, other than herself, having another breakdown.

Finally, the teens were still dealing with the Pump sitch. The drug continued to make inroads into the Tri-City's teen population, almost seeming to target those students who were driven to excel. After Kim's experience, just before the holiday break, Ron and Kim had agreed to make Pump their number one priority. Wade had arranged a conference call with Dr. Director, and the one-eyed administrator fully agreed. As such, Kim and Ron had stayed in Middleton, rather than investigate a series of possible Shego sightings in Michigan.

Kim and Ron had dealt with two more Pump overdoses over the holidays; one in Upperton and one in Lowerton. Even working closely with local law enforcement, they hadn't managed any breaks on the drug's source. They had managed to capture one dealer, in Upperton, who told them that he bought it from someone who always wore a heavy cloak. The dealer had only dealt for two weeks and the supplier had already broken contact, before the dealer had been captured.

So now Kim found herself after school on Wednesday, drilling the squad for the third time of the new year. The squad had back-slid a little over the holidays, more than she was happy with, but not as bad as she had feared. Bonnie seemed a little rustier than the rest, but was driving herself to compensate. All in all, Kim couldn't complain as they went into their last routine for the day, which ended in a tower. The squad formed the tower adequately, but had some trouble on the dismount. Jess, on the second tier, stumbled and landed awkwardly, twisting her left ankle.

Kim groaned inwardly, even as she rushed to her friend's side and examined the joint. While she honestly cared about the girl and didn't want to see her hurt, Kim also had to take into account that a serious injury would result in needing to bring in an alternate, with serious competitions looming in the near future. To Kim's practiced eye, the injury looked rather bad.

"It's a bad sprain," Kim declared and Mrs. Johnson, the faculty advisor, agreed.

"Ice it down overnight and see what it's like, in the morning." Kim suggested. "We'll make the call then."

"Oh, now you're a medical expert?" Bonnie asked, with her haughty voice.

"Bonnie, I've had a couple of these happen to me," Kim answered, too pleased that Bonnie was showing some of her old spunk to unleash a snippy reply. "We'll know by tomorrow morning how bad it's going to be."

With that, the workout broke up. Kim wanted to stay with Jess, but the blonde girl chased her away.

"My parent's will be here to pick me up in a few," she told the captain. "So I'll be fine. Besides, I'm sure you'll want to walk home with Ron, like you always do."

Kim smiled at that and left, leaving Jess and Bonnie the last two girls in the dressing room.

"How bad does in hurt," Bonnie asked her teammate.

"It really hurts," Jess admitted. "I don't know if I'm going to be able to work out tomorrow."

"I've got a pain reliever here," Bonnie informed her, pulling a small tin out of her purse.

"If this is some prescription, I'm not taking it," Jess insisted.

"Oh, it isn't prescription," Bonnie assured her. "And trust me, it works wonders."

With a slightly uncertain expression, Jess took the pill Bonnie offered.

* * *

As Bonnie was discussing pain relief with the blonde cheerleader, and while Kim and Ron were walking back to the Possibles' household, Kim's parents were in a heated discussion. The two doctors had gotten home earlier than usual and the rocket scientist was voicing his concerns.

"I am NOT saying that Ronald isn't a fine boy," he protested to his wife. "But don't you think they're getting too serious about this? They're only seventeen!"

"This from the same man who kidded him about practicing to carry her over the threshold?" Anne Possible demanded of her husband. "The same man who admitted that she's calmer and happier around him, and even asked him to sleep next to her on the couch, when she was so upset?"

"That was a harmless joke," he protested. "And Kimie-cub was upset, she needed her friend…okay, her boyfriend at that time. But now, it's getting just too serious for their age."

"Serious?" Anne Possible demanded of her husband. "They lock horns with supervillains, they rappel into forest fires too rescue people, they crawl into flooding culverts too search for children, but when they express their affection for each other, they're getting too serious?"

"Don't mix aspects of her life!" James snarled right back. "Dear, I truly appreciate the fact that Ronald has gone with her on these dangerous missions. I appreciate that he has remained her friend throughout her life. I just think that they're too young to be at this stage in a relationship."

"This stage?" Anne was stunned. "Dating?"

"I didn't mind the dating," James insisted. "But great garden party! They're giving each other rings!"

"They aren't engagement rings," Anne insisted. "They're promise rings. Those two know that they're too young to be planning on marriage, but they aren't too young to be thinking about it."

"They **are** too young," James countered. "Kimie doesn't have any experience with boys and now she's thinking about spending the rest of her life with Ronald."

"Oh, so now you wish she had dated a couple of dozen boys?" Anne asked, showing a little amusement.

"Anne, don't play me like this!"

"So come out and tell me exactly what you mean," the redhead insisted.

James took a few moments to compose his thoughts, "Ronald is a perfectly fine boy," he said. The rocket scientist was so intent on his wife that he didn't hear the door open. "It's just that I can't help but feel that Kimie-cub is selling herself short by committing herself to Ronald at this young age."

A gasp from the door brought James Possible's attention to the doorway, where his daughter and her boyfriend stared at him, with twin expressions of utter shock.

* * *

"So, cuz, just what is this supposed to do?" Ed asked his older cousin, their conversation covered by Drew's buzzing device.

"Put bluntly, I'm going to manipulate the bug in your…body cavity to only transmit when I press this button." Doctor Drakken displayed a tiny, handheld device. "I've made this small, so that I can use it, unnoticed, while working."

"Okay, dude, seriously," Ed protested. "What good is that going to do? You said that this place was shielded."

"I've set a receiver on the laboratory's electrical service," Drew explained. "It will send a signal, using the electrical grid as a transmitting antenna."

"Okay, you explained that to me before, seriously," Ed pointed out. "But you haven't explained what good that's going to do."

"Ed, I'm throwing the electromagnetic equivalent of a Hail Mary. First of all, it probably won't work and I'd prefer to not have you taunting me for my failures. Secondly, the less you know, the safer you will be."

"Okay, I can deal with that, seriously," Ed assured his cousin. "Now, one more question. Is this going to hurt?"

"I can't picture any situation where this will cause me any pain," Drakken assured his cousin.

"Oh, that's good to…Wait a minute! That's not what I was asking, dude, seriously."

"Oh! You?" Drew pondered a moment. "Has the transmitter caused you any discomfort?"

"Only the insertion, seriously."

"Then you shouldn't even be aware when I start," the blue man informed his blonde cousin. "Now, get back to your assignments; our cover is vital!"

"I'm on it, seriously."

With that, the big, blonde man ambled off while Drew Lipsky continued his labors at his own workstation. First, he disabled the chip working inside his cousin's body cavity. He then enabled the receiver. Seeing no reason to delay his attempt, he activated his control.

"Ewaaaaaayeow!" Ed's shriek caused Drakken to rush from his workstation to his cousin's. He found the mechanical genius on his back, left hand extended from his body and his right hand twitching on his torso.

"Ed!" Drew screamed, dropping to his knees next to the big man. "Can you speak? Does it still hurt?"

"Hurt?" Ed looked at his cousin, with a confused expression. "Nothin's hurting, seriously. I just figured out the rotary motion to robot leg motion conversion gearbox. It works perfectly, seriously!"

"Wait, you were playing the air guitar?"

"Well, seriously dude!" Ed insisted. "That's what I do when I do something sweeeeeet!"

"But you didn't feel any discomfort?" Drew prompted.

"Would I still be playing the air guitar if it hurt? Seriously, cuz, I'm so on top of this machine!"

"Never mind," Drakken muttered, wandering back to his workstation. Without further ado, he pulled out his control and started to manipulate Ed's bug, activating the transmission device whenever he held down the switch. Even as he worked on the energy weapon prototype, he kept his left hand concealed in his pocket, working on the switch.

Two short bursts; pause; long then short burst; pause; long burst; pause; short burst; pause; short then long then short burst; pause; long then short burst; pause; short then long burst; pause; long burst; pause; two short bursts; pause; three long bursts; pause; long then short burst; pause; short then long burst; pause; short then long then two short bursts. Longer pause. Two long bursts….

He hoped that Shego and Monty were listening in, and would figure out what he was doing.

* * *

Saying that Dr. James Possible was having a very bad evening didn't even begin to describe the sitch.

It had started off with an argument with his wife; never a good start to the end of the day. While they had managed to have a fairly civil disagreement, the subjects of that disagreement had arrived at the worst possible time, and had taken his conclusion out of context. The result had been dead silence for a very uncomfortable length of time. Finally, Ronald had broken the standstill.

"This seems to be a private conversation, KP," the boy had commented, in a weak voice. "I'll see you tomorrow, if nobody has any objections." With that, the blonde teen had executed a military 'about face' and marched out of the door.

"Ron…" Kim had called to his retreating back, only to see her BFPF drop his head, upon stepping off of the porch, then sprint into the night. James had watched, slack-jawed, as those green eyes turned onto him.

For several endless seconds, his daughter glared at him, tears forming in her eyes until, finally…

"I hate you!" Kim shrieked, then fled to her room.

"Kimmie…" James had protested, moving to follow his daughter only to find his way blocked by his wife.

"I'll handle this," she informed him, in a frighteningly neutral tone. "I think you've done enough for one night." With that, his wife spun and followed her daughter at a more sedate pace; giving the teen a little time to compose herself. James hung his head and turned around, only to find himself facing the belligerent faces of his sons.

"What's wrong with Ron?" Tim demanded.

"He's a lot more fun than Josh, or those other guys Kim dated," Jim added.

"Boys, I'm very fond of Ronald," James tried to assure the twins. "I just think that the two of them are moving too fast."

"Why?" Asked Jim.

"Haven't they hung out with each other since before we were born?" Tim prompted.

"They're very good friends," James confirmed. "And they've been good for each other. But they're moving on to something else now."

"So what's the big deal?" Tim asked.

"All that's changed is that they're mashing lips now and then," added Jim.

"You'll understand better when you're older," James insisted. "I don't want to see either one of them hurt by moving too fast."

"Kim hurt Ron?" Jim asked.

"Or Ron hurt Kim?" Tim added, matching his twin's incredulous expression.

"Boys, I know that it sounds far-fetched," James admitted. "But trust me, it's for their own good."

"All I know is that you don't want Kim hanging with Ron," Tim snarled.

"What's next, will you say that he can't play video games with us?" Jim added. With that, the Possible twins spun and fled to their room, leaving a rocket scientist to ponder how trying to do the right thing could alienate his family.

* * *

For Ron Stoppable, a good day had led into a horrible afternoon, then a hideous evening. The school day had been fair to average, followed by an intense wrestling workout. As per his usual activities, he had met up with Kim outside the gym for the walk home. Kim had been more than a little distracted by Jess's injury and how it would affect her squad.

"I'm not trying to act like a cold-hearted slave driver," Kim had said, as they arrived at the Possibles' home. "I'm really concerned about her but I can't do anything about her ankle and it's my responsibility to keep the squad in top form. I have to start planning on replacing her in the lineup."

Ron was just ready to tell Kim that he understood her predicament and that he didn't think she was acting cold-hearted when the two walked into the house in time to hear her father say that she was selling herself short by being with him. Ron had handled the situation with as much dignity that he could muster and had managed to keep his bearing long enough to get out of their house. A few steps outside the door he had lost his composure and ran the rest of the way home, sobbing. He didn't bother going in the front door but took the outside stairway to his room. With his usual luck, his mother saw him through the window.

The blonde boy had just reached his room and sat on his bed, trying to come to grips with what had just happened, when he heard a polite knock on his inside door, followed by his mother's voice.

"Ronald, may I come in?"

"Just a minute, mom," he called back. He spent a couple of moments wiping his face, trying to regain his composure. "Sure, come on in."

His mother stepped into his room and closed the door behind her. She gave her son an appraising look before taking the chair at his desk.

"I'm not going to ask you if anything is wrong," she told him. "Since it's obvious that something _is_ wrong. Instead, I'm going to ask you _what_ is wrong."

"Mom, it's kind of personal," he protested.

"And it has you very upset," his mother finished for him. "When you're upset, it affects this entire household. Now, you just came home and you haven't had a chance to calm down, so I'm going to assume that it has something to do with Kim."

Ron nodded.

"So, did she break up with you?"

"N-no," Ron couldn't stop the tears from starting again. "We just walked into her house in time to hear her father tell her mother that I wasn't worthy of her time."

"Did she agree?" Mrs. Stoppable asked.

"No, Kim and her mother both seemed cranked about it but I didn't stick around."

"So, are you going to continue to see Kim?" Jean Stoppable inquired.

Ron looked at her with an expression more appropriate for someone who had just announced that her pancreas had developed interstellar travel, rather than someone who had just asked him a question.

"Unless one of her parents comes out and forbids me to see her," Ron told his mother. "I will continue to date her."

"What if one of your parents forbids you from seeing her?"

Ron now looked at his mother with an expression of betrayed shock.

"Mom!" The teenager almost cried. "Are you or dad going to tell me I can't see…"

"If I need to, I will," Jean Stoppable informed her son. The Stoppable matriarch took a deep breath. There was no way that her son was going to take this well, at any time, so she might as well deal with it now. "Ronnie, I have to admit that I've become uneasy with how close you and Kimberly have become."

"Mom, we've been close for years!"

"I know son, but you're stepping into something new."

"Then why didn't you say anything when we decided to get together?" Ron demanded. "I remember you, on the couch with dad and the Possibles, telling us how happy you were that we were finally dating!"

"That was before the two of you became so serious," Jean told her son. "Before you exchanged rings and started to flaunt your affection so openly."

"You mean, you expected us to break up?"

"In a word, yes," Jean informed her son. "You're a teenager, Ron, and most teenage couples break up. Look at you and Sue, or Kim and Josh."

"But you're acting like you were looking forward to it," Ron protested.

"I was," she replied. Ron's mother took a deep breath before continuing, "Ron, Kim has been very good for you as a friend and she's been very good for you as a girlfriend. She has pulled you out of a very complacent life, helped you make something more of yourself and stood by you, when not even your father and I have. But it's time to face the fact that this can't last forever."

"_Can't_ …last for…" Ron was perplexed. "Okay, mom, I'll accept that the odds are against us lasting forever, but why is it we _can't_ last forever?"

"This is why!" Mrs. Stoppable snapped, reaching out to grab her son's face and turn him towards the mirror. "Look!" She demanded, tracing the scars around his left eye.

"I'm not understanding," Ron admitted.

"Look what's happened to you!" Mrs. Stoppable almost shrieked. "Ronnie, you took some hits before, when you were the distraction, but now you're actually confronting those freaks that Kim fights!"

"Somebody has to mom," Ron protested. "If we didn't fight them, who would?"

"I don't care!" Jean declared. "Ron, this is going to get you killed if you keep it up! I was hoping that the two of you would calm down when you started dating, but it's only gotten more intense! Now you're giving each other rings and making future plans. Do these plans include these missions of hers?"

"We've talked about it," Ron informed his mother. "We realize that we might not be able to keep up the missions after high school. College is going to be rough and when it comes time to start a career, we can't picture that we'll be able to just leave work at a moment's notice and run off to help someone."

"But what about this summer?" Jean prompted her son. "What about the summers during your college years?"

"We want to keep helping people," Ron told her, honestly.

"Why, Ronnie?" Jean almost pleaded. "Is it some sort of adrenaline rush? Are you trying to impress her? Why do you keep putting your life on the line like this?"

"We help people mom!" Ron insisted.

"But why you!" Jean shot back. "You have a bright future ahead of you! Why not someone with less to lose?"

"What do you…" Ron struggled to comprehend what his mother was saying when suddenly, he understood and didn't like what he realized.

"You mean let someone from the wrong side of the tracks take the risks?" Ron asked, his face showing the disgust he felt at the concept. "Let someone like my friend Oscar; half-orphaned and poor, take the risks while I have a comfortable life?"

"I know it sounds harsh," his mother admitted. "But this is the way of the world. I will not have you winding up dead because you have some silly notion that you're doing the right thing. You'll understand it yourself when you become a father."

"So dad agrees with you?" Ron stammered.

"He doesn't know about this conversation," Jean told her son. "He thinks that you and Kimberly are going to go the distance. Last night, he told me that he wanted her to start calling him dad." Mrs. Stoppable shook her head, "the two of you don't see how unhealthy this fixation has become, but I do. I will not forbid you from seeing her, Ronnie, since you've been friends for so long I won't take that away from you. But I will say, right now, that I forbid you from going beyond casual dating. I won't have my child joining himself to such a reckless young woman."

With that, Jean Stoppable climbed to her feet and marched out of her son's room, leaving Ron staring, open mouthed, after her. He didn't know what to do. He wanted to talk to KP but thought that calling or going over ran the risk of running into her father, and that wouldn't be a very good idea. He was too wound up for dinner and too wound up for homework. Finally, he decided to slip outside, cold and snow notwithstanding, and do a few katas to calm his mind.

* * *

Kim stormed through the woodlands behind the Stoppables' house, intent on reaching her boyfriend as soon as possible. Her mother had calmed her a little bit, assuring her that she had taken her father's comment…somewhat…out of context. The simple fact remained that her father had delivered a cruel, devastating blow to her BFPF's self esteem and her mother had given her permission to go to his house and try some damage control. Ordinarily, she would have gone to the front door, but right now she wanted to see Ron, with no parental interference. Not that she was intending on doing anything that his 'rents would frown at, she just wanted to connect with him and assure him that she, her mother and her brothers didn't think that she was settling. Slipping through the snow, she heard someone moving about their workout clearing.

It didn't take long for Kim to realize that Ron was still upset. His movements were a little jerky, too much emphasis on power and not enough on grace and flow. She watched for a few minutes before stepping forward.

"You extended that last block too far," she critiqued him. "You took it outside your shoulder line. Try it again." With that, she moved closer to him and threw a roundhouse, at about half speed.

"Just trying to get that 'ol harmony back, y'know?" Ron commented, blocking the kick and returning a half-speed punch at her head.

Kim smiled as she blocked the strike. Other couples might handle such situations by kissing, making out, crying hysterically or going out to dinner. She and her BFPF would work through it with some easy-paced sparring. Ron's 'never be normal' motto was in no danger of expiring.

"So, have the katas helped you put my dad's comments behind you?" She asked, sliding forward and executing an ankle sweep.

"Your dad's comments aren't the worst part," Ron informed her, hopping over the sweep and throwing an overhead strike.

"Oh," Kim prompted, directing the blow to her left and aiming a ridge-hand strike at his lower ribs.

"My mom added some…interesting comments of her own," Ron added, bringing a knee up to block the strike, then extending the leg in a snap kick.

"Which were?" Kim encouraged him to continue, even as she skipped lightly back too avoid the blow.

"According to her," Ron told his BFPF. "I'm going on the missions just to impress you. My fixation with you is unhealthy…and you're going to get me killed, eventually."

"What!?" Kim gasped, coming out of her fighting stance and dropping her hands to her hips. Ron relaxed his stance and recounted, as best he could, the conversation he had with his mother.

"What did we do wrong, KP?" He pleaded. "Last spring, the 'rents were so happy that we decided to get together. Now they don't want us even hanging around anymore."

"Not all of them," Kim corrected him. "My mom and your dad still think it's great that we're together. Maybe we should introduce the four of them sometime."

"C'mon KP," Ron mock-complained. "The bad jokes are my job."

"Put 'em up, boyfriend," Kim retorted, returning to her ready stance. Soon, the teens were sparring, at about half-speed, once again. There were challenges to be met, both individually and as a couple but somehow, this light workout seemed to assure both of them that they would be able to face them together. The easygoing competition brought a calm to both of their minds.

Even as a devious plan started to form in the redhead's mind.

* * *

_A/N: _

_Again, my thanks to everyone who has taken the time to read this ongoing story, and a bigger thanks to everyone who has taken the time to leave a review or drop me a PM. It's been a fun time._

_As always, my biggest thanks go to Joe Stoppinghem, for his Beta services._

_Until my next update, best wishes;_

_daccu65_


	42. Family and Other Issues

Chapter 42: Family and Other Issues

He had considered himself mature and responsible, at least until this moment. Sure, he enjoyed things that most people couldn't even comprehend, much less enjoy and he had a few…colorful…personality quirks but still, he considered himself mature. As for his companion, she had always considered herself decisive and logical, at least before the confrontation they had just stepped into. Now, they were forced to endure some harsh questions about their actions and motivations. The two were almost squirming on the couch, facing the wrath that they had called down upon them.

Mrs. Possible and Mr. Stoppable looked sternly at their spouses, sitting next to each other on the Stoppable family couch. The real intimidator, however, was Nana Possible, who was just about to launch another tirade upon her younger son.

"Before we get started again," Mr. Stoppable delayed the inevitable unpleasantness. "Why don't we clear the innocent bystanders out of the field of battle?" He looked to his son. Why don't the two of you take Hanna out? The new Flippies movie is at the theater's Saturday matinee right now. Hopefully, we will have this all worked out by the time you get back."

"Now then, James," Kim's Nanna began, as the teens carried the little girl out the front door. "You've said yourself that Ronald is a fine young man. Just what do you find unacceptable about him right now?"

"You know, KP," Ron mused, as the teens walked to the bus stop. "I don't know if telling our 'approving 'rents' was a stroke of genius or a stroke of cruelty on your part. Just remind me to never get on your bad side."

Kim snickered at him, half friendly and half deviously, before replying. "I just figured that it was time to clear the air a little bit. Mom thinks that your mom and my dad don't have any problems with us, just letting go issues. Who better to deal with it than someone who's already gone through the letting go phase?"

"Okay, that makes sense," Ron admitted. "I just hope they can work this all out."

"Yeah, as if we don't have enough to worry about," Kim commented. "Not only do we have to deal with Pump, but Shego seems to be on the move and we have competitions coming up next weekend." Kim shook her head, banishing the thoughts. "But for right now, I'm not going to worry about it. I'm going to hang with my boyfriend and his little sister and watch some overly perky people dancing for no good reason."

"Y'know, you're right," Ron declared. "I'm with the two most badical girls in all of Middleton. Nothing is going to spoil this day."

* * *

"I just don't understand it," Montgomery Fiske muttered to himself, sitting in his…less than luxurious apartment. While some might think that a nobleman would be dismayed with his spartan quarters, he was not. Lord Fiske had excavated burials in Greenland and Siberia in his day, so living in a one-room apartment, whose walls blocked most of the winter's wind, was no hardship. No, Lord Fiske was irritated with his unsuccessful search. Talking to himself, while coding a message to Shego, helped him review the facts in his mind.

"I have been unable to isolate Edward's, and I assume by extension, Dr. Drakken's, location," he wrote. "And I find the partial successes that I have experienced to be intensely frustrating. During each day, the receiver will pick up intermittent signals. Whenever I attempt to trace these signals to their source, the receiver leads me to the nearest power line."

"I suppose that I cannot consider my endeavors to be a complete failure," he continued. "The signals only originate in the industrial heart of the city. Therefore, I have obtained lodging in such facilities that are available near such institutions. While the living conditions are not pleasant, I have thrived in worse."

"I am at a loss to explain the random and intermittent nature of the signals," he confessed. "Yet I have confirmed that these signals only originate from and area encompassing roughly one quarter of the city. I have created a list of such financial entities with facilities in this area and I have cross-referenced this list with the list we created previously; including such entities capable of using the doctor's services and able to pay for us to obtain them. Such research has narrowed the possible locations to eight, if our earlier brainstorming can be trusted."

"I fear that, unless I can discover why these signals are behaving as they are, you may need to perform some burglary," Fiske continued. "However, I fear that if I am unable to reduce the number of possible properties for you to visit, we will risk exposure if we attempt to infiltrate all of these facilities. I shall, therefore, continue to investigate these mysterious signals."

"I find myself truly missing your company," Fiske confessed. "So I shall redouble my efforts to find your former employer. I hope that this message finds you well and in good spirits. I sincerely hope to contact you again, soon, with better tidings."

With that, Montgomery Fiske encrypted the message and sent it to a new, email account. He then sat back in the cheap, hard chair and tried to determine just why the tracking chip's signals were behaving as they were.

* * *

"I wonder at the wisdom of keeping those two here," DNAmy informed her employer, as they discussed the Lipsky cousins. "They have developed what we wanted them to create. While I have no stomach to eliminate them, I feel it wiser to move them to a more secluded locale."

"We are secure here," Mr. Loward countered. "And while they have already developed the components that we require, they continue to produce useful items. We will keep them here until such time that someone gets suspicious, or they prove themselves to be troublemakers. I am particularly intrigued by Drakken's concept of the wireless energy distribution system."

"I am, as well," Amy admitted. "But I can't help but recall that he is a clever, resourceful man. He wants out, Warrick, and he's capable of tricking us."

"Indeed," Warrick conceded. "I will begin my transformation in three days time, in the laboratory that you have constructed on the island. While I am incapacitated, you will have full control over our operations. I remind you, however, that moving them also risks exposure."

"Perhaps you are correct," Amy nodded her understanding. "I will keep them here, perfecting items for after our ascendancy, unless they prove troublesome. At that time, I will move them to the island's laboratory facilities." She paused. "Do you think that the authorities will cause us any problems?"

"None at all," Warrick chuckled. "We have given them their arms limitation treaty and found a safe way to dispose of the warheads. We have given them full disclosure of our production facilities on the island." He chuckled again," apparently, it's hard to tell an industrial laser from a weapon's grade laser, unless you are an expert. No, they're happy to let us keep our research facilities confidential, as long as they can watch what we produce."

* * *

"I mean, seriously cuz," Ed mused to his older cousin. "What if they're legit?"

"Meh? What do you mean?" Drakken asked the big blonde, while dividing his attention between the project he was working on and the small control in his pocket. '_Short then long; pause.'_

"Maybe the big green babe and that mealy-mouthed dude aren't trying to take over the world?" Ed suggested, while Drakken continued to work the control in his pocket. _'Long then short then long then short; pause.'_

"Maybe the really want to build some kind of space mining system, seriously," Ed concluded. _'Long; pause.'_

"I cannot see how this is possible," Drakken answered his cousin. "First of all, the lasers they had me design are clearly weapons, rather than industrial. Weapon's grade lasers require intense energy output for short bursts, while industrial lasers require lesser output for far greater lengths of time." _'Two short, one long; pause.'_

"Secondly," Drakken continued. "I cannot believe that any such robots can mine minerals, from the moon, an asteroid, or any other extraterrestrial body, more economically than doing so here on earth." _'Short, long, short; pause.'_

"Finally," the blue scientist concluded. "There is the problem of recovering such minerals. Bringing them to Earth will take a great deal of expense and effort, which are really the same things. Granted, they may find some profit in recovering rare minerals, such as Iridium, and finding new uses for them, but I remain doubtful." _'Two short; pause.'_

"No Ed," Drakken finished, in a voice showing his sadness for his cousin's hopes. "There can be only one reason why our…hosts are making this effort. They intend on distributing these fighting machines all over the world, suddenly, and crushing all resistance. At least, I hope that is their intention." _'Long then short; pause.'_

"Seriously? Why would we want them to be trying that?" Ed demanded. "I thought you didn't want them to try it!"

"I honestly don't," Drakken admitted. "But the consequences are less…dire…for us if they are planning to seize control of our planet. If they are attempting some sort of legitimate enterprise, we will become liabilities. They will liquidate us, to prevent us from letting anybody know how they acquired their technology. On the other hand, if they do take over the world, they may find our continued existence to be beneficial." _'Two long, one short; long pause.'_

"So what do we do? Seriously," strangely, Ed looked like he was ready to cry.

"We do as we're told," Drew Lipsky informed his cousin. "We try to remain useful until such time that we can turn the tables on our captors." _'Two short; pause.'_

* * *

Kim, Ron and Hanna returned to the Stoppable residence, with the redhead still trying, unsuccessfully, to drive the Flippies' songs out of her head. Still, she considered it a good day; Hanna's delighted reactions more than made up for the lack of plot, action, romance, suspense, or anything else that made a movie enjoyable.

Now, however, was time to walk into the Stoppables' home and come to grips with the interrogation session that her Nanna had spent the last couple of hours overseeing. Kim knew, roughly, what the elderly woman had intended. She had planned on setting her son and Mrs. Stoppable on the couch, in the presence of her, Mrs. Possible and Mr. Stoppable, and having them both say why they didn't think that the other's child was a good match for theirs. According to Nana, it would be unpleasant, tense, and ultimately beneficial.

"The windows are all still intact," Ron commented. "And I can't hear screaming from out here. These are very good signs."

Kim smiled, feeling the tension that her PF was trying to express. She had every intention of continuing her relationship with Ron, even expanding it at the appropriate times. However, she wanted both of her, and Ron's parents' approval. Last spring, she was sure that she had it.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Ron squared his shoulders, opened the door, and led the way inside.

The five adults were still there and although the tension had been reduced, it was still present. Still, the five were sitting and chatting, despite the apprehensive looks that they all shot the teen couple.

"Kimberly, Ronald," the elderly Possible addressed the teens. "I believe that we have worked out most of our issues. Now, the only thing that's left is to include the two of you. I'll keep an eye on this little lady while the two of you have a word with your parents."

Much to the teens' surprise, Mrs. Possible and Mrs. Stoppable took charge of Ron while Mr. Possible and Mr. Stoppable led Kim into the kitchen. The two fathers were gentlemen and insisted that she be seated before speaking.

"Before we get started," James Possible started. "I have to apologize, in Kim's presence, to you, Gene. First, I never meant to imply that Ron wasn't a fine boy. I apologize if I gave anybody the impression that I didn't think that he was worthy of her." James took a large breath, "You have raised a fine boy, Gene and you've chosen a fine boyfriend, Kim. I have to admit that I've been uneasy about how serious the two of you have become. When I made my comments, the other day, I meant to say that I thought that the two of you hadn't spent enough time dating others, leaving you with no perspective towards a permanent relationship. I seem to have forgotten Josh, Sue, Zita, and a number of one-dates that you've experienced."

"The fact is, that I'm not comfortable with the idea of you growing up. I have a hard time grasping that you are now a seventeen-year old young woman and a high school senior, who is going to become more and more independent in the upcoming years. Part of your increasing independence is going to be finding someone to spend your life with. While it's still too early to say that Ron is going to be that person, he's clearly the leading candidate."

"That has been another issue that I've had with the two of you," James admitted. "The fact that you have become serious with Ronald is another sign that you are preparing yourself to leave the nest. This is another thing that has forced me to admit that you're growing up."

"I was wrong," James stated. "You are growing up and I have to accept the fact. You have my blessing to continue to date Ron. You have my blessing to consider a future with him but, when it comes to…other aspects of your relationship; keep in mind that you are still underage, uneducated and unemployed."

"We've…talked about it," Kim admitted to her father. "We're not ready for the consequences, yet." The redhead looked to the other adult in the room. "Mr. Stoppable," she asked. "What do you think about me and Ron?"

"Kimberly," the elder Stoppable informed her. "I've been intensely grateful that you've remained his friend throughout his life, even when we weren't there for him, like we should have been. I'm so grateful that you remained his friend, while he was somewhat of a social outcast and I'm happy that you remain close to him, now that he is coming into his own, socially. I honestly hope that the two of you can remain together throughout your lives. I think that the two of you compliment each other very well."

While Kim was discussing matters with their fathers, Ron was facing the mothers' questioning.

"Shortly after the two of you decided to start dating," Mrs. Stoppable informed her son. "We sat Kim down and I asked her if she was really attracted to you. Her answer caused us to make a bit of a mess of the carpet. Anyway, Ronnie, straight up, where do you see you and Kimberly going with this relationship of yours?"

"I…uh…" Ron felt himself wilting under the women's intent looks. Finally, he just bucked up and answered as best he could. "I really would like to see us make it work, and by that I mean permanently," he told them. "We've been together, in one way or another, for so long that I can't picture life without her."

"What kind of life do you see for yourself," his mother asked. "What do you see yourself doing for the rest of your life?"

"I want to go to college," Ron answered. "And I want to go with my strengths. That would seem to be something to do with business or food."

Anne Possible and Jean Stoppable shared a look, then Mrs. Stoppable addressed her son again.

"Ronnie, I owe you an apology for the remarks that I made before. I have always wanted to chart your life for you and I saw Kim as challenging my authority. The fact is that you are going to have to chart your own course in life. While I hope that you will turn to your father and me for advice, you are going to have to make the decisions and live with the consequences. I had hoped for a more sedate and quiet life for you and I'm ashamed of myself for saying that you should let someone else accept the risks while you reap the rewards. You have made the decision to face some of the world's dangers and evils, and I should have been supporting you, rather than maligning your sacrifice. It's a great thing that the two of you are doing and saying that I'm proud doesn't do it justice."

"She isn't the only one," Anne Possible chimed in. "What you and Kim have done over the years is astounding and more than a little frightening. Yet, I have to admit that it's necessary and that nobody does it better than the two of you."

"What I'm trying to say," Jean Stoppable resumed her speech. "Is that I was wrong to even threaten to forbid you from seeing Kim. The two of you are too young to commit, formally, to each other. But I have to admit that the two of you have been very mature and responsible with the way you've handled your relationship's new aspect. I really hope that the two of you can make a go of this."

"So you've gone from 'maybe you shouldn't be dating Kim' to 'you have my blessing to pursue a long-term relationship' in a couple of days?" Ron wasn't quite ready to let things drop.

"I was wrong, Ron," his mother replied, simply enough. "I had my ideal for your path in life, not taking into account that you were the one who would have to live it. Kim came along and expanded your horizons and I resented the loss of control. I'm sorry."

This plain, but eloquent apology/explanation took away Ron's remaining anger, making him ashamed of his own belligerence. He simply stepped forward and enfolded his mother in a forgiving hug, one that she quickly returned. Anne watched, teary eyed, for a few minutes before suggesting that they call the others in for a complete discussion.

Both sets of parents, both teens, and Hanna and Nana had just assembled in the living room when the Kimmunicator chirped.

"What's the sitch, Wade," Kim answered. "We're having a major family bonding experience here right now."

"Sorry to interrupt," Wade replied. "But we have another Pump incident, at Middleton Park."

"We're on it," Kim informed him.

"I'll have your ride there in five," Wade answered. "You should be on site in fifteen."

* * *

In the South Pacific Ocean, on an uninhabited island, a United States ballistic missile submarine pulled alongside a hastily built dock. A small party of inspectors, representing the UN, Russia, China and the United States, observed as skilled workmen unloaded the ICBMs from the submarine's launch tubes and loaded them onto trucks. While the inspectors watched, workmen drove the trucks into large working stations, where technicians went to work on the weapons.

Still under observation, the technicians removed the nuclear warheads from the missiles, disarmed them and loaded them onto another ship, for a six-mile voyage to another island. Here, an armed Japanese contingent took responsibility for the warheads and moved them to a secure facility, under the scrutiny of UN observers. The observers contacted their superiors, confirming that all scheduled warheads had been disarmed and secured. Back on the first island, workers transported the missile bodies to the side of the island opposite the dock and disassembly facilities. Here, a representative from International Manufacturing signed a receipt, acknowledging the delivery of the missile bodies.

While International Manufacturing stored the missile bodies next to some assembly facilities, the submarine slipped back into the ocean. In New York, the Secretary General of the UN announced a historic moment in arms reduction. The process had taken hours, but had been finished ahead of schedule. On the islands, various supervisors critiqued their crews' efforts and prepared to receive the next submarine, a Russian vessel.

* * *

"What can we do for you, Officer Hobble?" Kim asked, when Team Possible arrived at one of the park's parking lots.

"We have an apparent dealer," the ever-present policeman informed the teens. "She started to approach pedestrians, trying to sell the stuff to them, about a quarter of an hour ago. She's been getting increasingly aggressive, almost like she's desperate to sell it off. We've blocked off the park, so there aren't any innocents in the area. We're hoping that you can get her to give herself up, peacefully. We've already had an undercover officer purchase some of her product; it's Pump."

"How are your mad negotiating skills doing?" Kim asked her PF, in a playful manner.

"Always ready," he retorted.

After getting the dealer's last known location, Kim and Ron posed as a teenage couple (no stretch there) just walking through the park. Sure enough, as they approached a certain park bench, near a pond, a heavily cloaked figure approached them.

"Hey!" A ragged voice rasped. "How would the two of you like to feel better? I've got some good stuff, right here."

"Not terribly interested," Kim informed the dealer. The redhead judged that they were dealing with a girl, who was trying to disguise her voice.

"I don't know who you are," Ron chimed in. "But we can help you. Why don't you just come with us? You don't have to do this." Kim was almost taken aback by the…compelling tone in her PF's voice.

"What do you mean?" The figure hissed back at him. "Why would I go anywhere with you?"

"You've already been caught," Ron answered her, Kim could almost feel the pitying sympathy in his voice. "The police know that you're selling pump, and they know that you've been taking it. Why don't you just come with us to the parking lot? We'll ride with you to the hospital, and they can help you."

For several moments, the figure seemed to consider.

"Wait a minute!" The dealer snapped. "Miss Perfect and the loser? You're here to bring me in! No way!" The cloaked figure spun and ran away, Kim sprang into pursuit, just ahead of Ron. The dealer's voice had sounded familiar but the heroine didn't have time to place it.

Whoever the dealer was, she was athletic. Kim struggled to close the distance on the dim walkway. After several minutes of pursuit, she overtook her quarry and tackled her. The dealer curled her knees up to her chest and used her feet to send Kim flying over her. Kim executed a front handspring and spun around as Ron closed with the dealer.

The dealer threw a wild punch, which grazed the blonde boy's chin. Ron rolled his head with the strike, spinning around and extending his foot. He tripped the dealer, dropping her onto her back. The mystery girl scrambled to her feet as Ron continued his turn and faced her. Kim had a free shot at the unsuspecting dealer but didn't want to injure her. Instead of punching or kicking her opponent, Kim drove a shoulder into her torso, forcing her back into Ron.

Ron leapt onto the dealer's back, wrapping his legs around her torso and trapping one of her arms. Both Kim and Ron actually blushed at the girl's choice of grammar as Ron applied a carotid artery choke. The girl struggled with a strength that her slim form shouldn't have been able to generate but it was no use. She collapsed in less than a minute.

Kim and Ron could hear police and paramedics rushing to their location as Ron released their opponent. Kim reached down too check the unconscious girl's pulse and breathing, knowing that she was going to have to be extra supportive towards Ron. Her boyfriend would be in a funk after being aggressive towards a girl.

Kim's eyes snapped open to the size of hubcaps when she pulled back the girl's hood and scarf, revealing Bonnie Rockwaller's face.

* * *

_A/N: Once again, thanks for reading, and hanging around for this long, drawn-out story. _

_A big thank-you, as always, to Joe Stoppinghem, for his patient Beta work._

_Until my next update, best wishes;_

_daccu65_


	43. A Redhead is a Terrible Thing to Tweak

Chapter 43: A Redhead is a Terrible Thing to Tweak

"Okay Wade, what can you tell us?" Kim asked of her technical genius friend. It was Tuesday morning, two days after Team Possible had helped the Middleton Police Department capture Bonnie Rockwaller, red-handed, selling Pump.

"I haven't gotten a complete picture," Wade admitted to the two. "I can only make my best guess, piecing what both the police and the DEA are willing to let me know."

"Let's hear it," Kim told him. "Please and thank you."

"Okay, stand close," Wade instructed. The two teens did so and the youngster activated the dampening field around Kim's locker.

"Okay, it seems that Bonnie started to use the stuff several weeks ago," Wade opened.

"About the time she really started to make her push to be the best cheerleader?" Kim inquired.

"Probably," Wade agreed. "Anyway, a couple of weeks ago, the supplier switched dealers and offered Bonnie the opportunity. Bonnie took it. She seems to have done well, if you can call pushing drugs doing well, for about a week. That's when she had the Junior-induced breakdown."

"How did that affect her ability to sell?" Ron wondered. "Didn't the supplier want to work with someone who as a little…unstable?"

"I don't have any information on the supplier's preferences," Wade admitted. "But keep in mind that this supplier has been using dealers for two weeks before finding a new one. From what Bonnie has admitted, her week in the hospital put her behind. The supplier was demanding that she pay up, or the supplier would make an anonymous call and report that she was using. Bonnie panicked, took a little bit too much of her own product, then went out and tried to sell off what she had."

"That explains why she wasn't being very careful about how she was selling," Ron mused.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kim demanded.

"You might not like her much," Ron answered. "But you have to admit that Bon-Bon can be very clever when she wants to be. The way she was acting in the park, she wasn't thinking as much as she was acting. She was just trying to sell the stuff, not being careful about being caught."

"Agreed," Wade chimed in. "The important thing is that you caught her and she sang like the proverbial canary at the police station. Now, everyone has to pick up the pieces and deal with the aftermath."

Both Ron and Kim flinched at that statement. The first two days of school, this week, had been anything but pleasant. Bonnie's client list had included three gymnasts, two wrestlers and two cheerleaders. Jessica had been one of the cheerleaders. Both she and Bonnie had claimed that the brunette had given her the drug, claiming that it had been a painkiller, and hadn't told her the nature of the drug until after she suffered withdrawal symptoms. As such, she wouldn't be charged with a criminal offense but she was still off the squad until she completed a rehabilitation program. Not only that, but the drug had deadened the pain from Jess's injured ankle to the point where she had worked out, hard. As a result, she had injured her ankle even worse and it was doubtful that she would be ready to rejoin the squad after her drug rehab.

Kim heaved a major sigh. Her teenaged crime fighter persona notwithstanding, she was still the captain of Middleton High's competition cheerleading squad and she was down two cheerleaders with less than a week before a competition. Neither girl would be easy to replace, especially Bonnie. Kim was honest enough with herself to admit that losing Bonnie actually hurt more, from a squad standpoint, than losing Jessica. The squad would hold tryouts tonight too pick out the replacements.

Thinking of the tryouts brought another scowl to Kim's face. The best alternate on any squad was Cindy, but when Kim suggested that she leave the wrestling squad and join the competition squad, the girl had turned her down. A couple of the girls grumbled about Cindy only staying with the wrestling team because of Oscar but Kim knew better. Her friend enjoyed cheering at wrestling matches and Middleton High's extracurricular programs existed for the students, not the other way around. Still, Cindy would have been a welcome addition.

The weekend incident had also given Rita Richards, and her journalistic clones, a great deal of ammunition. In two days, the rabid reporter had first reported that Kim had planted the drug on her rival too give the redhead a chance to assault her. Then, Richards had reported that Kim distributed the drug to her squad too give them a competitive edge. It was a good thing that Richards' viewers weren't big on logical consistency, otherwise they might start questioning the mutually exclusive stories and stop watching her show, forcing her to find another job.

Of course, Ron was struggling, as well. This weekend was also the divisional tournament and Ron was undefeated. While he didn't have the same responsibility towards the other wrestlers that Kim had towards the cheerleaders, he was still affected. One of the boys who had been implicated when they caught Bonnie was the varsity 155 pounder. That boy had confessed to using the drug and was now off of the team. Ron and Oscar were putting in some extra time with the boy's replacement, trying to get him ready for the tournament season.

"Thanks for the update, Wade," Kim murmured. "Do you have anything else for us?"

"Not at this time. The supplier has covered his, or her, tracks really well so nobody has a lead. The police have some sort of sting operation going on, but they're keeping it so secret that I haven't been able to dig up any details. They have requested your help if they track the supplier down."

"They'll have it," Kim stated. "I really want to stomp out this epidemic that Bonnie spread."

"She didn't actually spread it," Ron protested. "In fact, I bet that she kind of got caught up in something she wasn't ready to deal with."

"You're taking her side!?" Kim demanded.

"No," Ron protested. "Dealing is unforgivable, but I might understand why she started to use the stuff."

Kim was ready to snap back, but managed to bite her tongue. "Let's just get to class," she suggested. "Today's going to be tough enough without arguing with each other."

"Good idea," Ron agreed.

Neither teen noticed the set of dark eyes, reading their lips from down the hall.

* * *

Lunchtime was usually a sort of 'eye of the hurricane' for Ron; a time when he could relax. Today however, lunch was more of a tornado in the middle of an already chaotic day.

Monday, the news of Bonnie's capture had caught most of his fellow students by surprise, so they were too stunned to grill him about the details. Today however, every member of the Middleton High student body seemed to want a personal account about the incident. Ron of course couldn't say much, since legal action would be pending. He had said 'no comment' so many times that he almost answered one of Mr. Barkin's questions, in class, with this phrase. Ron swore he saw a glint of humor in the big teacher's eyes when he made his near-gaffe. Yet, the blonde boy had escaped the certain detention that would have accompanied such an answer and now found himself fielding addition questions in the lunchroom.

Walking through the lunchroom to his usual table had been a verbal equivalent of running the gauntlet. It was bad enough that his friends and teammates were heckling him for information; Bonnie's posse was waiting for him, in force. A small pack of girls, who spent most of their time ignoring him completely, now demanded that he give them a full accounting of his actions. These girls, more so than any of the other students, did not take kindly to his 'I can't comment' statement. After all, _THEY_ had actually spoken to _HIM_! Didn't such an honor demand a proper response?

All told, Ron slid into his table with a greater sense of relief than he had ever felt when he had dodged an angry linebacker. Here, at least, his friends had accepted the fact that he just couldn't talk about certain things. Oscar, Felix, Yori, Cindy and Monique weren't about to pump them for details that they knew he and Kim couldn't divulge. As an added bonus, Yori was asking the others some questions.

"I do not understand," Yori was saying. "What benefit did Rockwaller-san hope to gain from using this drug?"

"Nobody really knows her thought process," Monique pointed out. "But we think that she was trying to gain a competitive advantage as a cheerleader. The stuff is supposed to give you an energy boost."

"Somewhat like the steroids that some athletes abuse?" Yori asked.

"Not exactly," Felix chimed in. "Steroids help you build up your muscles. This stuff is supposed to give you a short-term energy burst."

"Much like a strongly caffeinated drink?" The Japanese girl asked for confirmation.

"Triple-T E," Monique confirmed. At everyone's puzzled look she clarified, "taken to the extreme."

"So she did not take the drug for simple pleasure?" Yori asked.

"We don't know for sure," Kim replied. "Why is this important to you?"

"Rockwaller-san's motivation determines the extent of her dishonor," Yori informed Kim. "While taking this drug is dishonorable, if she took it for simple recreation, her dishonor is even greater. If she took it only to enhance her contribution to the cheerleading squad, perhaps the stain she has placed upon her reputation is not so permanent."

"Yeah, but she…er…the authorities suspect that she sold the drug," Kim retorted. "How does that fit into the honor tally?"

"Profiting from the sale of such an addictive, damaging substances is never honorable," Yori replied. "Especially if she deceived those who purchased it. However, I cannot condemn her, at this time, for her use of the substance."

"Why not?" Monique demanded. "Your buddy Ron here has had to choke out teenagers who were tripping on the stuff! That's the kind of thing that she was involved in!"

"Indeed, Jenkins-san, this drug has had some most…unpleasant…consequences. But I cannot condemn her simply for taking a…performance enhancing substance."

"You don't think that it's harmful?" Kim asked, flabbergasted.

"Indeed I do, Possible-san, but consider this; I consume ginseng, for health and clarity of mind. You yourself consume multi-vitamins, for improved health. Many of us here drink tea, or coffee, for the, as you say, morning wake-up. Several students consume so-called energy drinks. Most of us here have taken over the counter pain relievers, or medicines for cold and flu symptoms."

"You're equating Pump with aspirin?" Monique asked, her expression incredulous.

"Indeed not, Jenkins-san," Yori replied, perfectly calm. "But I believe that the difference between myself and Rockwaller-san may be a matter of degree, rather than a matter of, as you say, black and white. How can I condemn her for using a performance enhancing drug when I turn to medicine for the same purpose?"

"Yori, I see a big difference between you taking some harmless ginseng, and Bonnie taking Pump," Monique insisted.

"Then, may I ask, what is the difference?" Yori insisted.

"For one thing, Pump is illegal and addictive," Monique pointed out.

"I acknowledge both points," Yori conceded. "Yet, as I said before, I find the difference to be one of degree. Much like if you were to wake up feeling tired. If a cup of coffee did not provide you with enough of a wake-up, you may take a caffeine tablet or an energy drink. Rockwaller-san simply went further and consumed this drug."

The bell interrupted Moniques reply.

"Yori," she said, as they stood to leave the lunchroom. "Why don't we just agree to disagree? I think that we were about to get into a really bad argument."

"Perhaps this is wise, Jenkins-san," Yori agreed.

* * *

The rest of the day passed slowly, but in a way too quickly for Kim's taste. Dealing with the constant questions and rumors wasn't pleasant but it was better than what was waiting after school. With the last class finished, Kim changed into her uniform and faced the cheerleading squad.

"Okay everyone, she addressed all of the cheerleaders, from all squads. "I'm sure that everyone has heard the rumors so I'll tell you what I'm allowed to say at this time. Bonnie has been arrested and this, obviously, takes her off of the squad. Jessica is injured, so she's off of the squad, as well. This means that the competition squad is down two girls, with a competition coming up this weekend. Now, I'm calling for anybody who wants to join the squad to try out, tonight. I know that some of you have the ability," here, she gave Cindy a pointed look. "But prefer the squad you're on. I'm just asking you as a cheerleader and, hopefully, a friend. We've put in a great deal of effort on this squad and I don't want the efforts all of us have put in to fall apart."

"Kim, I think I have a bit of a solution," Cindy said.

"What's that?" Kim didn't know if she should be afraid to ask.

"I'll try out for the competition squad," Cindy told her. "If I make it, I want Jessica on the wrestling squad. Her ankle won't cause her too many problems during the routines. That way, she doesn't lose her extracurric."

"That makes sense," Kim agreed. "Now, who else?"

Several other girls stepped forward to try out. Kim hated to lose a workout, but she had to fill the slots and she needed to see how the would-be members fit in with the rest of the squad. By the time the tryouts were finished, Cindy and another girl had won spots on the squad and it was well after the time that workouts were usually finished. Kim thanked everyone for trying out and took a quick shower before meeting up with Ron for the walk home.

"How'd it go with you?" Ron asked, as she met him in the lobby.

"Better than I expected," Kim admitted, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. "Cindy left the wrestling squad and made the competition squad. She and Beth will be filling in for Bonnie and Jessica, at least for awhile."

"Yeah, Cindy told Oscar that she was going to try out," Ron told her, as Kim dug her winter coat out of her bag. "She really did it so that Jess could stay on a squad. Keeping her extracurric will look good on the college applications."

"I'm sorry that Cindy might miss out on cheering for her BF," Kim remarked, digging out her mittens. "But it's another worry off of my mind. Cindy's a very good cheerleader, almost as good as Bonnie."

"With or without the chemical enhancements?" Ron asked.

"Without, actually," Kim remarked. "I hate to admit it, but Bonnie was a real asset for the squad."

"It's too bad that she turned to Pump to make herself better," Ron mused.

"Do you think that's the only reason she took it?" Kim demanded. "To be a better asset for the team?"

"No, KP," Ron shook his head. "I honestly think that she took the stuff to be better for her own sake, to beat you. It's really sad."

"Sad?" Kim stared at him. "I can think of some harsher words than sad!"

"So can I, but I don't think that they'd be right," Ron answered. "I don't think that she'd have done it if a lot of things hadn't driven her to it."

"You're not telling me that she's the victim here!" Kim snarled at him, unmindful of the stares she was drawing. "Nobody forced her to take the stuff!"

"Nobody forced it down her throat," Ron pointed out. "But think of it. Her sisters have belittled her, for years, for not being able to beat you. She knew that she'd always be second to you, so she took the steps she needed to be number one."

"I can't believe this!" Kim snapped. "First Yori says that Pump isn't anything more than a higher grade of caffeine, then you defend Bonnie's choice to use it! What next?"

"KP, you've always been successful at everything you really want to do," Ron explained. "So you don't understand how people can become desperate when they don't succeed."

"So now it's my fault!?" Kim gasped.

"NO! Of course not!" Ron snapped right back. "You just don't understand what it's like to never succeed at anything important! You don't understand what it's like to fail, constantly and why some people are willing to do foolish things to avoid it!"

"Why should I?" Kim demanded.

"Because you're surrounded by flawed, human people," Ron shouted back. "Like a certain guy who called in a favor to go to France for hair gel, just because he finally got some attention from girls. Like the guy who made up a story about his best friend dating the football captain so he could finally get an article published."

"If you're trying to equate your actions with hers, fine," Kim snapped. Her frustrations from the last couple days overrode her good sense. "If you want me to say that you're just as much of a loser as she is, I will. You're a loser! Are you happy now?"

Kim Possible had, for as long as she could remember, considered herself the girl that could do anything, so dealing with this sitch should have been easy. She was horrified by what she said, the moment she said it. All she had to do was move faster than the speed of sound and wrap herself around her boyfriend's head, so he couldn't hear what she had just said. Instead, she couldn't do anything, so she was force to see the devastated look on his face as her words sunk in.

"W-w-well, Kim," he stammered, his voice choking. "If that's the way you feel, then fine."

Ron forced himself to keep at least a partially dignified bearing as he turned and stalked out of the lobby and into the dark, cold evening. For close to a minute, Kim stared after her boyfriend's receding back.

"Ron.." she stammered, moving to run after him, only to be intercepted by Monique.

"Hold on for a minute, girlfriend," the fashion expert told the redhead. "You need to get a grip."

"But I just…" Kim stammered.

"We heard," Cindy informed her, joining the two.

"I've got to…" Kim stuttered, again.

"I know," Monique told her. "You have to apologize to the boy and make things right. But you're going to calm down and get your head on straight before you do it."

"But Ron, I can't leave him alone!" Kim protested.

"No worry about that," Cindy informed Kim. Kim followed her new teammate's gesture out the door, to where she could see Felix and Oscar joining Ron.

"You both said some dumb things," Monique told Kim. "We'll work on you while they help him get his head on straight. Now, there's a little coffee shop down the block. What say we grab ourselves a latte and have a little talk about you and your PF?"

Kim took one last look in Ron's direction before bowing to the wisdom. She HAD to put things back together with him but it would be better if she had her head on straight to do it.

"Yeah, sure thing," she said, and the three girls wandered to the aforementioned shop.

"Okay," Monique began, once they were seated. "Tell us everything that you can."

* * *

While Cindy and Monique dragged Kim off to talk about the situation, Felix and Oscar escorted Ron to his room. There was a slight delay, while Felix's crawler attachment took him up the outside stairs, then the three boys sat down to discuss things.

"I was just trying to tell Kim that Bonnie might have had a reason for taking Pump," Ron told his friends. "I didn't think it was right that Bonnie did it, I just wanted to tell her that not everyone can be the world-beater that she is."

"No arguments here," Felix told him. "But there were better ways to deal with it."

"What do you mean?" Ron demanded.

"Ron, I'm no psychologist, but I could tell that Kim was pretty tweaked today," Felix explained. "First, she had the shock with finding out that Bonnie was a dealer. Secondly, she had to deal with both Jess and Bonnie being off the squad, with a major competition coming up. Then there was the conversation she had with Monique and Yori." Felix frowned at the stance his girlfriend had taken. "Anyway, I don't need to tell you that Kim can be a little emotional and judgmental."

"True," Ron admitted. "But I still think she can't just judge everyone against her own standard! I mean, very few people can be what she has become."

"I agree with you," Oscar entered the conversation. "But you're supposed to be the guy with the mad negotiating skills. Rubbing Kim's nose in the fact that she needs to see the other girl's side of the issue, while she was already tweaked, wasn't a good idea."

"Yeah, you're right," Ron slumped to his bed. "She takes so much onto herself that she was overloaded. I should have been the supportive boyfriend and waited until things weren't as stressful, then talked things over with her."

"Hey, we're all young," Felix told him. "We're all bound to make some mistakes." The young genius frowned. "Although I might have a word with her about calling you the L word."

"I kind of pushed her into it," Ron mumbled. "I shouldn't have pushed things as hard as I did."

"Still no excuse," Oscar chimed in. "Still, I don't think we can hold it against her, as long as it was just a reaction type of thing. Judging by the look on her face after she realized what she said, I think it bothered her even more than you."

Oscar was about to continue when Felix's phone rang.

* * *

"So I take it that you didn't mean what you said?" Monique asked her best friend.

"Understate the obvious much?" Kim sniffled. "I don't know what came over me!"

"Let's talk about that," Monique suggested. "You were having an argument with the boy. What brought it on?"

"We were talking about the whole Pump sitch," Kim told her. "Ron was saying that I should try to see Bonnie's point of view, that not everyone can be the best without some help. I was upset. I mean, I have to deal with the squad's issues and he's telling me that I should lighten up on the girl who caused it all."

"Okay, girlfriend, I'm not saying that Ron wasn't pushing something on you when you weren't ready for it," Monique suggested. "But maybe he has a point."

"What do you mean?" Kim asked.

"Two things," Cindy chimed in. "First, maybe Ron was right about that. I don't think that Bonnie did the right thing, but not everyone can be a champion… Kim, Bonnie is just as driven to excel as you are and she works really, really hard. If you weren't on the squad, she'd be the captain and the best cheerleader. In fact, she's probably the second best cheerleader in the entire tri-city area. That has to be hard for her."

"The second thing is that you're not perfect," Monique added. "You're going to have times when you're irritable and not ready to deal with more issues. Today was one of those times. There wouldn't have been anything wrong with telling him that you weren't ready for your conversation. Ron would have understood."

"I guess you're right," Kim mumbled. "It's just…"

"It's just that once something started, you had to deal with it, right now," Cindy finished. "Kim, for all that you're a teenage heroine, you're still human."

"I know, and do you know what makes this sitch even worse?" Kim asked her companions.

Both other girls shook their heads.

"The worst part is that Ron was only doing one of the things that makes us better as a team," she told them. "Ron deals with flawed people much better than I do. He was playing his part; trying to understand why Bonnie did what she did. That's what he does! He deals with people that I just don't want to deal with and I called him a l-l…" Kim couldn't force herself to say the word.

"Well, I'd say that you being sorry about it is a given," Monique noted. Kim nodded.

"So, what are you going to say to him when you see him again?" Cindy asked her captain.

"I'm going to tell him how sorry I am and that I wouldn't have said it if I wasn't soooo tweaked about Bonnie, the squad, and Yori's remarks," Kim replied.

"Good start," Monique nodded at her. "How about promising him that the next time you get tweaked, you'll tell him so he doesn't get on your last nerve?"

The three girls giggled just a little at that remark, only to have the lightheartedness cut short by Kim's melancholy sigh.

"What is it about Bonnie that brings out the worst in me?" She wondered out loud. "She didn't even have to be there to make me snap at Ron."

"Do you want the honest answer" Monique asked. "Or are you still on edge?"

"I'll take my chances with honesty," Kim grimaced. "Ron's already absorbed my snark for tonight."

"Okay, honest answer," Monique looked Kim straight in the eye. "The reason you and Bonnie get on each other's nerves so much is that you're actually a lot alike." She ignored her companions' open-mouthed stares and continued. "Think about it; you're both attractive, athletic and smart. You're both driven to be the best. The difference is that you're a little better than she is, you're a lot nicer and you have a much better family life. Throw in the fact that you've had a great, supportive friend for almost all of your life; who, I might add, you finally got smart about and made him your boyfriend, and you can see that you've had a better time of it than she has. When she sees you, she's seeing what she almost was, or could be if she put her mind to it. When you see her, you see what you could become if you slip."

"Are you a fashion maven or a psychologist?" The redhead grumbled in a grumpy voice, but with a smile.

"So, are you ready to face the boy?" Monique inquired.

"Yeah, the sooner the better," Kim sighed. "I want to get to him before he's had too much time to stew. God I can't believe that I actually called him that!"

"Good enough," Monique told her, dialing Felix. The teenaged gossip queen talked to her friend for only a few seconds before breaking the connection.

"The guys are done with Ron," she informed Kim. "Let's go."

The walk from the coffee shop was the longest one Kim had ever hoped would never end. She had to get back with Ron, to let him know that she really hadn't meant what she had said but still, the hurt look on his face literally twisted her soul. How could she face him, even if she needed to?

Monique and Cindy, of course, wouldn't let her drag her feet. The two were the picture of efficiency, forcing the redhead to maintain a steady pace, neither running or stalling, all the way to the Stoppables' house and up the outside stairs. Once there, the other four teens excused themselves, leaving Kim and Ron alone with each other.

For several, awkward minutes, the two refused to look at each other. They found odd objects in Ron's room; shoes, awards, Rufus's cage, the computer, to be so totally fascinating that they couldn't force themselves to start the conversation that they both desperately needed to have. Finally, they spoke at the same time.

"I'm so sorr…" they both said. "Go ahead…" They said, in unison. "I shouldn't have…" They tried, again at once.

Both stood there, with miserable smiles on their faces, until the Kimunicator interrupted the moment.

"The Mathter's on the move in South Dakota," the boy genius reported. "It seems that he's trying to track down some of Drakken's resources. I can have transport to your location in fifteen."

"We're on it, Wade," Kim replied. Kim and Ron were both relieved and irritated at the interruption. "Can you give us our briefing?"

"I'll start now," Wade began. "The Mathter, like a lot of the technology-driven villains, has been trying to track down Drakken's hidden assets. He's managed to get some sort of lead about a possible facility in central South Dakota. One of his coefficients asked some locals about a place called 'Burning Brule.' There's a failed resort, on the Missouri River, that was known by that name."

"I haven't found any proof that Drakken made any use of the abandoned building," Wade continued. "It doesn't fit his usual method of operation. Drakken prefers underground locals that shield his experiments' electromagnetic emissions. I haven't been able to find any indications of excavations in the area."

"Maybe Drakken used it as a storage locale," Kim suggested, ducking into Ron's closet and changing into a spare set of her mission gear.

"Possible, but doubtful," Wade answered. "Still, the Mathter might have access to more information than me."

"What can you tell us about the Mathter?" Ron chimed in.

"Right now, he seems to be accompanied by four coefficients and he's driving two large SUVs," Wade replied. "His transportation leads me to believe that he's heading towards the old resort. There are only two means of access; one is a rough, unplowed road and the other is by boat. With the Missouri frozen over, he's probably going to need four wheel drive capability."

"So how are we getting there?" Kim asked.

"Mrs. Bartles will pick you up and drive you to the airport," Wade told them. "There, you'll find parachutes and cold weather gear. A private aircraft will take you to DIA, where the Oh Boyz' plane will pick you up. They're traveling between Denver and Minneapolis, but they're willing to make a slight detour, allowing you to jump into the area."

"Will anybody meet us there?" Ron asked.

"A sheriff's deputy has been dispatched," Wade told them. "And should arrive at about the same time that you do. You need to know something else." Here, the youngster's voice grew serious. "There are storms building in the area, you have a good chance of being stranded overnight, until the storms blow over. That's why I'm sending the cold-weather camping gear."

"I'm glad you're on our side, Wade," Kim assured him, now in full mission gear. She then looked at her BFPF. "Head in the game now, and couple's talk later?" She offered.

"Good call," Ron agreed. "Just be ready to hear a long apology when we get around to it."

"**I**_ should be ready to hear an apology_?" Kim wondered, even as a car horn announced Mrs. Bartles' arrival.

* * *

Kim stared into the fire, wondering if Wade kept missions in reserve, in case she and Ron needed the distraction. There was just something about doing what you did best that made everything else seem much more manageable. Take today's sitch:

Wade was his usual, hyper-efficient self when he set up their transportation. Kim and Ron both chose not to think about how he could arrange for their cold weather gear to be waiting at the airport. The teens simply picked it up and hopped aboard the small plane that took them to Denver. Once at Denver, the Oh Boyz sent their limo to pick them up and carry them to their chartered aircraft. Soon after, they were flying to the northeast.

While the Oh Boyz were gracious, if spoiled hosts, the flight wasn't exactly pleasant. They had met Kim once before, and she had been a little flushed at the attention they had given her. This time, she was polite and grateful, but wasn't going head over heels over them. Put simply, the group, used to screaming fans and fawning groupies, didn't know how to deal with an attractive, confident young woman who wasn't exactly interested in them that way. Kim and Ron didn't even ask for autographs. The group was even more confused when they discovered that the two teens were going to jump from the aircraft, with the express purpose of confronting a band of criminals. Still, they wished their guests well as they leapt into the air (with Ron screaming in terror.)

Shortly after landing, Kim and Ron linked up with the deputy. The law enforcement officer was honestly puzzled as to why anyone would want anything to do with the old resort building. While he was tempted to just leave the abandoned place to the villain, he was a professional and wouldn't tolerate a criminal setting up shop in his jurisdiction. The three of them burst into the building and confronted the five criminals.

While the Mathter and his coefficients weren't ready for a confrontation, the number villain wasn't completely unprepared. He activated something that he called a 'Probability Manipulator' that somehow rendered the deputy's ammunition inert. Ron was a little surprised, but very grateful, to find out that the deputy was more than willing to drop his revolver, pick up a nightstick, and throw down with the bad guys.

The Mathter's pi symbol launcher, unlike the deputy's weapon, worked just fine in the manipulator's area of influence. Kim was forced to do some impressive acrobatics, keeping the head villain occupied, while Ron and the deputy tangled with the underlings. By the time Kim managed to close in and neutralize the Mathter himself, Ron and the deputy had subdued the four coefficients.

"It doesn't add up," the number-obsessed villain complained as Team Possible helped the deputy load up the bad guys. "I traced Drakken's shipments to the nearest town! He has to have a facility around here, somewhere!"

Team Possible helped the deputy load the criminals into the deputy's vehicle and saw the lawman off. Once he left, they investigated the immediate area, themselves. They paced the building's outside walls, compared them to the inside dimensions, and concluded that there were no hidden rooms inside the building. Wade hijacked a surveillance satellite and determined that there were no underground spaces in the immediate vicinity. This left Team Possible to scan the area, using the Kimmunicator's sensors.

By the time they were finished, Team Possible was positive that Drakken didn't have a hidden stockpile anywhere near the abandoned resort. Unfortunately for the teens, the blizzard had also hit with full force, stranding them several miles away from the nearest town. Kim and Ron took one look at the interior of the building, with every planar surface coated with bird droppings, and decided to find shelter elsewhere. After reviewing a topographic map on the Kimmunicator's screen, the teens hiked over the ridge north of the abandoned building and into a narrow draw. Here, they found shelter from the storm.

The teens followed the draw downhill, to where it opened into the Missouri River Valley. Here, they also found a plentiful supply of driftwood. Years of teamwork meant that setting up a camp, even in a growing blizzard, went quickly. The fine gravel, almost sand, along the riverbed proved easy to dig so they dug a fire pit. Then they dug another hole, lined it with cedar boughs, and pitched the tent on top of them. While Kim reported the situation to their 'rents, Ron busied himself at the fire, making their emergency rations as palatable as possible.

After the meal, the teens dealt with Kim's harsh words earlier that day. The conversation had been heartfelt, sincere, and occasionally tearful. They had repeated what their friends had helped them realize and soon they were able to put the incident behind them. Kim glanced upward, to where the driving wind blew snow over their draw.

"Well," Ron remarked. "Wade says that the storm should blow over just before sunup, and he should have GJ transport here shortly after that. Tomorrow could be a long day, so I think some sleep's in order."

Kim, staring contentedly into the fire, agreed.

"There's something you should know about the sleeping bags," she told her boyfriend. "Wade modified them. They're mummy type bags but the hoods snap on. This allows us to zip them together and still not let the cold air in."

"A long cuddle sounds both warm and nice," Ron commented, sharing a smile with his PF. Then he frowned, "wait a minute, didn't he modify them last year, before we got together?"

"Yeah," Kim answered. "He knew that we wouldn't mind sharing a sleeping bag, even before we became a couple. He said that since we are both fairly small, it would help keep us warm in the coldest weather. That was also when he put in the little hatches, for Rufus."

"So can I assume that a cuddle sounds good to you, as well?" Ron asked.

"So good," Kim assured him.

The teens banked the fire and connected their sleeping bags. Kim settled in to sleep, wrapped in her BFPF's arms (with Rufus snuggled in by their feet). She drifted off, with the scent of freshly-cut cedar filling her nose, the flickering firelight in front of her, and Ron's comforting warmth engulfing her, unaware of events taking place in Middleton.

Even as Kim and Ron fell asleep, content in knowing that they had dealt with another crises, Yori slipped out of the Yoshimuto residence. The lithe, Japanese girl made her way to a convenience store's parking lot. There, she purchased a couple of pills from a very nondescript, teenaged boy.

* * *

_A/N:_

_Again, my thanks for everyone who has continued to read and review my latest effort. This chapter puts this story over 200,000 words, my largest undertaking to date. I'm overwhelmed by the response I've enjoyed. _

_As always, my fondest thanks go to Joe Stoppinghem, for his ever-patient beta services._

_Until my next update, best wishes;_

_daccu65_


	44. Looking into Hidden Things

Chapter 44: Looking Into Hidden Things

The mission against The Mathter seemed to put Team Possible back on their game. They returned to Middleton the following morning, managing to attend afternoon classes and athletic workouts. The remainder of the week proved to be quiet, so there were no interruptions that Saturday. The wrestling team entered the divisional tournament with Ron both undefeated and holding a first place ranking for the tournament.

While the contest wasn't held in Middleton, Ron's mother had improved to the point that she could watch her son in physical contests. Monique caught a ride with the Stoppables, ostensibly to support the wrestling team although Ron suspected that it was because Upperton, and Mat, were in the same division.

Ron won all three of his matches by pin, becoming one of four Middleton wrestlers; Oscar included; to take individual, first place honors. All of the Middleton wrestlers placed, fueling the squad to their second straight divisional championship. The only sore spot was at 155 where Mark was off the squad, due to his Pump use. Mark had been expected to take first place and Ted, his replacement, had struggled to place fourth. Still, the squad had every right to feel good about itself on the bus ride home.

Monique, riding back with the Stoppables, felt pretty good as well. Mat had also taken first place honors, at heavyweight. While an Upperton cheerleader had given him a peck on the cheek, along with his ribbon, Monique had gotten a quick bit of lip action when he stepped off of the awards stand. This gave Ron something to report to Kim, on Sunday.

While Ron and the rest of the Middleton wrestlers took first place, Kim's squad struggled to take fourth place in their competition. Even so, it was an impressive performance. The Middleton cheerleaders had managed to replace two members, with less than a week to integrate them, and still managed to place in the competition. It was the first time that Kim had been satisfied with a fourth place finish. Kim wasn't so much delighted by the result, as she was happy with the fact that her squad was still alive. Their next competition would be in two weeks, giving her more time to integrate Cindy and Tammy into the core squad. She was sure that they would perform much better in the next competition.

Monday saw Jessica return to both school and cheerleading. The counselors that were working with her, helping her overcome her addiction, said that she would be best served by keeping busy. She took a spot on the wrestling squad, where Kim and Cindy gave her the duty of presenting their BFs with their awards during the upcoming tournaments. Kim also gave her the duty of making sure that Lisa didn't admire Ron's freckles, and other skin blemishes, too openly.

Fortunately for Team Possible, the Pump incidents, at least in the Tri-city area, evaporated for the next week. Apparently, the high profile 'take down' had the users and dealers staying low. As such, Kim and Ron were able to concentrate on academics, athletics, and each other.

The next weekend, the wrestling team was back in action at the regional tournament. Both Cindy and Kim wanted to see their BFs compete, but they realized that the reconstituted squad needed to practice. After cheer practice, Monique, who had caught another ride with the Stoppables, called Kim and told her that both Ron and Oscar had made it to the championship round. Kim caught a ride with Cindy and the two girls watched their boyfriends, as well as the team, become regional champions. The good feelings did not, of course, keep Cindy and Kim from heckling Jess about kissing their boyfriends, nor from critiquing Monique's PDA with Mat.

Half of the Middleton wrestlers would make the trip to the Sectional tournament the following weekend, plus the cheerleaders would be competing, as well. Kim and Ron were a little distracted but fortunately, as of Wednesday, the Pump situation remained quiet. Although both teens were certain that the drug was still being sold, and consumed, they hadn't had any more calls about overdoses. As such, they were able to devote a little time to the changing situation in Middleton.

"I know why it's important for each guy to place," Jess was commenting to Cindy, as the two made their way to the lunchroom that Wednesday. "But I don't know why it's so important for them to place first, other than it earns more points for the team."

"Two things," Cindy informed the blonde. "First, there are four sectional tournaments taking place, in the state, this week. The top four from each section will advance to the state tournament. Your first opponent for the state tournament is a flip-flop of your sectional ranking."

"I didn't understand that," Jess admitted.

"If you place first in the sectional tournament, you face someone who placed fourth in his section. If you placed second, you take on a third place wrestler," at Jess's nod, Cindy continued. "This is even more important at the state tournament because the first round of the state tournament isn't double elimination. If you loose your first round match, and your opponent gets beat in the second round, you're eliminated without getting to wrestle a second match. That's why it's important to get the best ranking possible in the sectionals.

"And that's why it's important to give the guys that last bit of encouragement during the close matches," Jess concluded.

"Exactly," Cindy agreed.

"What are two of Middleton's most bon-diggity cheerleaders doing this fine day?" Ron asked, as he and Oscar met up with them outside the lunchroom.

"Talking shop while waiting for the slave driv…er, your girlfriend," Cindy replied, theatrically covering her mouth at her mock slipup. She had, of course, seen Kim walking up from behind Ron.

"Very funny," Kim grumbled, showing false irritation. "It looks like I'm going to have to show my new squad member what a **real** slave driver does."

Cindy's groan wasn't entirely faked. When Kim decided to do some intense drills, keeping up with her could be grueling. Still, the redhead did the same workout that she inflicted upon the rest of the cheerleaders, so they really couldn't complain. The small group entered the lunchroom, where Jessica quickly excused herself to sit with some of her friends. Yori and Felix soon joined the remainder.

Kim did her best to hide a frown as Yori approached. Since her rather forceful conversation with Monique, the Japanese girl had not altered her stance about Pump. Yori still considered Pump to be nothing more than a powerful combination of painkiller and stimulant. When confronted with the carnage that such use could, and had, unleashed, she stated that it was a personal responsibility. Her friends had learned not to bring up the topic, and Yori kept her opinions to herself. Still, the issue caused a great deal of tension and it was putting stress on Yori's and Felix's relationship.

Kim sighed. While Felix was more Ron's friend than hers, he was an all-around good guy and she hated to see him down like this. She wasn't a relationship expert but the wheelchair-bound genius and the ninja were clearly on the way to breaking up. She hoped that Felix would be able to rebound. She sighed again, what was it about her that every time she got a grip on one thing, something else came up?

Why couldn't things be simple?

* * *

It was late at night, but Dr. Drakken couldn't sleep. Earlier that day, the unnamed polite man and giant woman had sat his cousin and him down to review tests done on the walker prototypes. It had been a nerve-wracking experience.

The monstrous woman, whom Drakken had secretly dubbed 'The Slab', toyed with the shock control while the polite man, whom Drakken had secretly dubbed 'Mr. Sunshine', had described the test results. According to Mr. Sunshine, the power distribution systems, and the weaponry systems, were adequate. The suspension and drive systems, however, needed improvements. Just as The Slab's thumb was descending on the activation button, Mr. Sunshine announced that the actual performance was close enough to the specified criteria that no punishment was in order; as long as Ed adjusted his design immediately. Drakken had never seen his cousin so motivated.

While Ed had worked on his systems, Drakken outlined his designs for both the wireless power distribution system and for a handful of strategically placed reactors. He knew that The Slab didn't trust him, completely, but he had done a good job of selling the project. Drakken was fully up on the 'return on investment' concept, and he had stressed how much his 'employers' would save, in the long run, by getting the worldwide infrastructure operational as soon as possible.

Drakken had made his point, and spent the rest of the day overseeing the construction of modular components for the power distribution transmitters and receivers that Megahenry had designed for him.

"_Was it less than a year ago that I implemented my plan?"_

With the workday finished, he had joined his cousin in the dining area. Ed had been in a sour mood at the time. Very little intimidated the big man, so he did not react well when he was cowed.

"Cuz," he had grumbled, around a mouthful of lasagna. "Do you get the idea that these people know us already, seriously?"

"What do you mean?" Drakken had asked, taking his time to savor his food.

"Just this. How did they know what we could do? Seriously! I mean, sure, we probably showed up on some police report, or something, but they seem to know a whole lot more than the cops bother to find out."

"Like what?" Drakken's curiosity had been piqued.

"Well, for one thing, did they ever ask you that you liked Italian food, seriously? Yet, we get plenty of the stuff. They had also put up those privacy screens in the lab. Did you tell them that it drives you nuts, seriously, when I watch you work?"

"No," Drakken had admitted, studying his forkful of pasta and seasoned meat.

"Then there's The Slab," Ed had continued. "She never uses our street names, seriously! She always calls you Drew and me Ed."

"You do have that named tattooed on your shoulder," Drakken had pointed out to his cousin.

"Yeah, but the cops always call you Drakken and me Motor Ed, or just Lipsky," Ed had grumbled back, now talking around a mouthful of milk, as well. "Then, I dunno, The Slab just acts like she knows you, like she seriously knows what buttons to push to get you moving."

"I'd assume that she's some form of expert on…forceful persuasion," Drakken had offered.

"It's bogus. She's seriously up front and thumping on me," Ed had countered, patting a few bruises she had bestowed upon him. "While she's more, I dunno, threatening to you."

That had gotten Drakken thinking and, of course, prevented him from sleeping. Once a mystery presented itself to the blue-skinned scientist he couldn't let it go, as the numerous crossword puzzles on his nightstand indicated. Now, however, he was wondering if Mr. Sunshine and/or The Slab were people from his past. Try as he might, Drakken could neither purge the thought, or come up with where he had encountered them before.

With another sigh, he got out of bed and pulled out another crossword puzzle. Even though he didn't know if anybody was picking up his transmissions, he palmed his control and manipulated Ed's bug while studying 17 down.

_Long; pause; two short, pause; three long, pause; long then short, pause…_

* * *

Lord Montgomery Fiske was in a foul mood, which seemed to be his usual state these days. He had spent another long, frustrating day unable to isolate Ed's tracking chip. As always, his efforts had led him to power lines in the city's industrial heart. Earlier that day, he had infiltrated the utility company's offices and reviewed the power grid layout.

By the time he was finished inside the office, the workday had drawn to a close and the streets were becoming deserted. During the day, Fiske carried a tape measure and a clipboard everywhere he went. By measuring things; sidewalk widths, gutter depths, the distance between fire hydrants and the curb, and so forth, he became just another workman doing his job, not worthy of a second glance. However, when the streets cleared in the evening, he retreated to his tiny apartment. Fiske had no intention of trying to explain his presence, on a deserted street, to a bored policeman.

His efforts in the utility company's office narrowed the transmissions' potential source to twenty facilities. These twenty facilities included the eight that he had previously earmarked. While his latest effort may not have accomplished anything, directly, it confirmed his earlier investigation.

"_Either that, or I'm simply trying to convince myself that I'm making progress_," he thought.

As per his earlier discussions with Shego, he considered this number too great to risk infiltrating all of them.

The fallen nobleman heaved a sigh and prepared a simple meal, while composing an email for the green-hued beauty. At his age, he really shouldn't be so depressed about her absence, but he couldn't control his emotions. In addition to this, he truly missed the small abode, on the Guatemalan mountainside. He wondered at this, since he didn't miss his ancestral home.

"_My home is wherever _**she**_ is located,"_ he realized.

He finished both his meal and his email, but chose not to send the message, in case he thought of something else to report. He then turned on the television, hoping to distract himself from his recent failures. He turned to a channel that emphasized US military history and watched a show detailing the air war over Vietnam.

"_It's too bad that Mr. Lipsky never received the prisoner of war training some of those pilots did_," Monty thought. He remembered reading a report about one of the captured pilots, who the North Vietnamese had interviewed, on television. He remembered how the man had given…pro-North Vietnamese statements while his eyes blinked in a strange sequence. The various authorities had assumed that this was due to the stress he was under until one of them realized he was using his eyes to send m…."

Fiske jumped out of his chair almost as quickly as if he were still endowed with the Mystical Monkey Power. He grabbed a pencil and a piece of paper, then activated the receiver. Moments later, he began to receive the transmissions, once again. His hands shaking with excitement, he copied the pattern.

_Short then long, pause; short then long then two short, long pause; two long, pause; short then long, pause… _

Fiske continued to copy until the pattern started to obviously repeat itself. He could no longer remember Morse code, but he was able to find a list on an internet search engine. Moments later, he cross-referenced the name he had just decoded with the lists he had previously compiled. Restraining himself from making a loud, verbal declaration of his success, he began to encrypt a message, to send to his lover along with his daily report.

* * *

Shego stalked back into her…no, their home, after another long night of providing both security and 'motivation' for the smuggling operation, berating herself for acting like a lonely sixteen year old. The work was very good for her; it paid well, was covert and allowed her to burn off some of her frustrations. Her employers had seen increased profits, so they were lenient about Monty's absence. Still, she was worried about Drew and she missed Monty.

She dropped her take-out breakfast on the table and took her seat. When Monty was here with her, they cooked all of their meals at home, even though they didn't taste as good as the meals they could buy. Shego didn't consider herself a romantic sap, but she missed the little things that she did with Monty, like preparing their meals and roughing up the smuggling band's competitors. Still, she admitted that he was better equipped, in an emotional sense, to do the job in the States.

But that didn't keep her whole body from literally aching for him.

Shego pulled some cutlery out of a drawer and prepared to dig in to her meal. She clicked her notebook on. Monty was in the habit of emailing her an update every evening, which she would read the following morning. Although most of the messages were along the line of 'the search is still frustrating, nothing substantial to report, I miss you,' she still looked forward to reading them.

"_I am not a crushing schoolgirl. I am not a crushing schoolgirl."_

She reviewed her email and, sure enough, Monty had sent her a message. What was unusual was that he had included an attached file. She finished her meal while reading what he had written, then saved the attached file to a floppy. Once finished, she loaded the floppy into her old laptop, the one without any form of communication hardware, and started to decipher his real message.

When Shego finished reading the decrypted message, she sat down and took several deep breaths. Then, her professionalism kicked back in. She grabbed a pencil and paper, then made a list of tasks she would need to perform before leaving for Michigan. It would take her roughly a week to arrange a departure acceptable to her current employer, but it wouldn't be wasted time. As well as telling her what he had discovered, Monty had outlined his revised surveillance efforts. While Shego could, and would, suggest some alterations, they were minor.

The super-powered mercenary went to bed thankful that she had hooked up with someone as devious and determined as her lover.

* * *

Warren had been in the news business for a long time, all of his working life. He had dabbled in what he referred to as the 'news entertainment' industry, but hadn't found it to his liking. Rather than follow the latest 'hot' celebrity, hoping for some sort of 'ohmygosh' moment, he preferred to cover more substantial news stories. Some of his colleagues didn't see the difference between covering Team Possible and covering celebrities. Warren had tried to explain that Team Possible did real things while the celebrities acted in movies and/or on television. As a result, his reports were real news while the gossip-mongers were simply a televised version of a bathroom wall. Most reporters understood the difference. Still, his brief foray into the world of celebrity hype continued to provide the occasional benefit.

Warren took pride in being a reporter who reported stories rather than making them. He acknowledged the fact that the distinction could become blurry when you were an aggressive, investigative reporter, but he held onto the difference. When you exacerbated a hostile situation, then reported on everyone's reaction, you were becoming the story, much like Marla Agile had done when she had interfered with Team Possible's first Pump takedown. On the other hand, if you dug into a story and revealed a truth, then filmed the reactions, you were being a good investigative reporter and probably performing a public service. Then again, sometimes even a reporter had to involve himself. The legendary Ernie Pyle hadn't been above dragging wounded grunts to safety, back in the day, so Warren wasn't about to be above looking in to some of the gossip-media's determination to take down Team Possible.

He had tried to talk to Marla, after the Pump debacle at Upperton High. He had tried to talk to her several times since then, but the younger reporter wouldn't divulge her motivations. Warren was both patient and determined. If Marla didn't know anything, or wouldn't reveal anything about the gossip-mongers' vendetta against Team Possible, Warren wouldn't give up. Now it was time to track down Pete, Marla's mystery cameraman. Warren had no doubts that he could do so, but that was a task for another day. Right now, he was on an unnamed island, in the South Pacific, covering International Manufacturing's first launch.

Warren and the rest of the invited media pool had already taken a guided tour of International Manufacturing's storage and assembly facilities. Warren understood that there were some classified research and fabrication facilities on the island. Although he would like to see them, he also understood that all major corporations had their secrets. Warren would have liked to try to sneak into them and take a look, but the company hadn't done anything to arouse his curiosity…yet. In addition, the guide had informed them that they had a classified medical facility on the island. Here, they would soon offer cutting-edge procedures, like the one that had cured Warrick Loward. Warren could understand why they kept everyone out of that facility. He was no doctor but he knew that having a storm of reporters blundering through a sterile environment was a bad idea.

He allowed himself to be led, along with the rest of the reporters, to a bunker. Over the next several minutes, they watched a combination of a Russian submarine ICBM and a Chinese land-based ICBM lift a prototype, mining machine into the sky. Once the launch controller declared the area safe, the reporters left the bunker for a continued tour. The reporters would stay on the island, which they had informally dubbed 'Lowardia', for the couple of days it would take the machine to reach the moon and perform some experimental excavations.

Middleton's favorite investigative reporter turned his attention away from the island's southwest area, where International Manufacturing was demonstrating one of the mining units (which one of the reporters had dubbed a Lowardian walker) and looked to the northeast. There a small freight ship, loaded with Chinese ICBMs, was approaching the restricted docking facility while an American 'boomer' was departing. Another ship was crossing the channel to the northern island, where the Japanese were guarding the warheads. Warren admitted that this setup did more to prevent the Earth's accidental annihilation than anything did in his lifetime but he couldn't help but suspect some sort of ulterior motive. He chuckled to himself, deciding that his years in the news business had left him too jaded to believe in miracles.

* * *

"So that's what you're going to be doing at International Manufacturing?" Ron asked Felix. The two boys had taken a break from Zombie Mayhem too watch a Lowardian walker perform some experimental excavations on the surface of the moon. Ordinarily, they would be with their respective girlfriends on a Saturday, but Yori's continued, inexplicable attitude towards Pump had alienated her BF. While the couple hadn't broken up yet, they were clearly moving in that direction. Ron had sacrificed a Saturday afternoon to hang with his best friend, as a sign of support.

"Yeah," Felix confirmed. Contemplating the engineering challenges made him forget about his heartbreak, at least temporarily. "Asteroid mining will be tougher, though."

"How's that?" Although Ron didn't really care about the engineering challenges, keeping his friend talking had to be a good thing.

For the next half-hour, Felix explained how an asteroid's lack of significant gravity made mining it more challenging. Ron didn't understand most of what his friend told him, he was just happy that Felix was thinking about something other than the Yori situation.

"But the real question is getting the material back to Earth," Felix concluded, bringing Ron out of his daydream. "I mean, moving the stuff across the solar system isn't that expensive but getting it to the surface of the Earth, in a usable form, is the real challenge."

"Do you have any ideas?" Ron asked him.

"No, that's more along the line of Mr. Possible and his sons," Felix told him. Then he frowned, "speaking of the Possibles, why aren't you hanging with Kim today? I know that she was running her squad through another workout this morning, but you're wasting you're last weekend before the tournament with me. You're not going to have any dating time this upcoming week."

"Hey, time spent with friends is never wasted," Ron protested. "Besides, I thought beating me, again, would cheer you up with…" Ron stammered to a halt.

"With the way Yori and I have been going?" Felix asked.

Ron nodded.

"I appreciate that," Felix admitted. "I probably would have just moped around the house if you hadn't show up."

"Feel like talking about it?" Ron prompted.

"I don't feel like talking about…it…right now, but I'd like an ear to listen to me try to figure it out," Felix grumbled.

"I don't quite understand," Ron confessed.

"Okay, it's like this," Felix turned off the game, a clear sign that he was serious. "You've been to Japan, studied there, so you have a better grip on their…ethical standards than I do. I'd like to run my observations by you, so I can get your perspective."

"Sure thing," Ron offered. "Although you're being a whole lot more rational about it than I would."

"We haven't actually broken up yet," Felix told him, with a sad expression. "Once that happens, I'll need a shoulder."

"Don't you mean IF you break up?" Ron asked, with his most optimistic tone.

"I wish I meant that," Felix muttered.

"Uh…you were talking about my perspective?" Ron wanted to change the topic.

"Yeah," Felix replied, grateful for his friend's efforts. "I don't really understand why Yori's so tweaked at me. First of all, I can't believe that she would…condone drug use the way she has. Secondly, she's never really been one to demand anybody else adopt her beliefs. Yet, in the last few weeks, she's done just that. Not only has she come out and stated that Pump use isn't much different from using aspirin, or an energy drink but she got mad at me when I said that I disagree. When I offered to just agree to disagree, she said that 'the deer and the ox may not agree, yet still graze in the same field. Yet, the deer does not return to the barn with the ox, nor the ox return to the woods with the deer.'"

"Is she trying to say that oxen don't like to get rained on, while deer are claustrophobic?" Ron asked. "I've never been very good at understanding allergies."

"Don't you mean allegories?" Felix corrected him.

"Those either."

"Yori means that we can be friends if we agree to disagree, but we are going to have to agree on this if we want to continue to be boyfriend and girlfriend," Felix explained. "This really bothers me, since she doesn't mind 'agreeing to disagree' on other issues. I was hoping that you could explain this."

"I'm just about as lost as you are," Ron admitted. "Japanese morality, for the lack of a better term, matches ours, for the most part. When you really think about it, some concepts are almost universal, like respect for private property and personal rights. When the two…morality codes…differ, the Japanese are usually more strict. For instance, they're stricter about personal behavior and they're more active about punishing people who don't conform."

"I'll take your word for it," Felix conceded. "You're a lot more well-traveled than I am." He paused for a moment, "You said that they're _usually_ more strict, I take it that there are areas where they're more liberal?"

"Yeah," Ron rubbed the back of his neck. "Their acceptance of…interesting literature comes to mind. I'm not going to say anything more about that. Anyway, I never really looked into if they're more or less accepting of drug use. I never saw any drugs being used at the Yamanouchi School. Bear in mind that I'm not saying that there weren't any being used, just that Kim and I didn't see any being used."

"So I have a double mystery," Felix told him. "Number one, why does Yori condone Pump use? Number two, why does our disagreement bother her so much? I'm afraid that I've only come up with one conclusion."

"And that is?" Ron prompted.

"She's decided to break things off with me, and she's using this issue as a reason," Felix almost sobbed.

"Oh, I don't think so," Ron didn't feel like contradicting his friend, but he had to in this case. "I've known her a little longer, while you know her better. Can you really see her using an excuse? If she wanted to break things off with you, she'd just come out and tell you the real reason."

"Still, I can't help but wonder," Felix grumbled. "Things seemed to be going so well. Of course, she's the only girlfriend I've ever had, so I wouldn't know good from bad."

"I'd say you two were doing pretty well," Ron told him. "I think there's more to this than Pump, or you and her. Anyway, you know I'm always available, don't you?"

"Yes, and thanks," Felix admitted. "Now, why don't you get out of here and take that girlfriend of yours out on a date? The two of you have a real hectic week coming up and I'd like to see one of us have a successful social life."

Ron reluctantly left the Rentons' house, intent on carrying out Felix's suggestion. On the other hand, two more thoughts kept gnawing at him: First, if he didn't already have enough motivation to eliminate Pump, what it was doing to his best friend's relationship would have provided it. Secondly, he had to wonder if Yamanouchi had directed Yori's recent actions.

His date proved to be somewhat more restrained than he had hoped.

* * *

_A/N: I know that the last few chapters haven't had much in the way of action, and I must say that I'm sorry. I would like to ask you to remain patient, the action is on the way. Still, I hope that you're enjoying the story and have found the 44 chapters worth reading. Again, I must thank everyone who has read the story and has taken the time to review and/or send a PM. The insights and ideas I've received are priceless. _

_My fondest thanks to Joe Stoppinghem for his invaluable Beta services._

_Until my next update, best wishes;_

_daccu65_


	45. An Eventful Week

Chapter 45: An Eventful Week

_Tuesday_

Felix Renton sighed, an action that wasn't familiar to him. Despite the fact that he was confined to a wheelchair, he had never been one to be down, emotionally, for any length of time. To be honest, there was a lot looking up in his life right now: MIT had given him a conditional acceptance. As long as he actually obtained his diploma, something he could probably 'test out' and obtain right now if he wanted to, he would be attending classes there, this fall. He had a full scholarship, from International Manufacturing, as well as summer internships with the same company all lined up. He was also in the lead position for valedictorian. Finally, in a few weeks he would be taking a three-week special internship program with IM, really a cover story to explain him being gone for the special treatment program. Soon, he would be able to walk again!

No, there was only one thing that was bothering the boy right now: Yori.

A small, detached part of his mind was actually amused by how down he was right now. He had really fallen hard for the Japanese girl and heartache was a new experience for him. He was anything but foolish. He understood probability, so he knew that the odds were way against the two of them lasting forever. Probability also told him that he would, almost certainly, eventually find someone to spend the rest of his life with. It was a mark of how seriously he took his relationship with the girl that not even mathematics could comfort him.

As a teenaged boy he had experienced numerous crushes and infatuations, he had even gone on a few dates, but he had never had a steady girlfriend before. He wasn't jaded enough to blame _just_ his disability for his inability to get and keep a girlfriend. He had pretty much turned his back on popular teen culture; he didn't care about his wardrobe or his hairstyle (within reason, he understood the need to keep a neat appearance) and he didn't spend time at the cool, teen hangouts. Finally, his interests tended towards the academic, and in areas that few girls shared.

Now, he sat at home, alone, with nothing to do. When he had asked Yori if she wanted him to walk her home, so to speak, she had politely declined. Ron was catching some extra training tonight, with Oscar, so a game of head-to-head Zombie Mayhem was out of the question. Last weekend, his two friends had led the wrestling squad to a second place finish at the sectional tournament. Soon, they would be heading to the state tournament. Ron was seated sixth place and Oscar was seated first. Three other Middleton Wrestlers were making the trip.

While Felix was still the team's statistician, it didn't take up much of his time. With the regular season matches over and just over half of the team still active, there weren't many statistics to enter into his computer. Solo Zombie Mayhem didn't have the appeal that it used to have and there was too much snow on the ground to go out and shoot baskets. He heaved another sigh and wondered where he had gone wrong with Yori.

* * *

"Monty!" The dark-complexioned woman called out, leaving the airport's baggage claim. Shego, wearing a fake tan, gave the man meeting her a big hug and a chaste, publicly acceptable, kiss. Ever the gentleman, Montgomery Fiske took her baggage and led the way to the small automobile he had…acquired earlier.

"Would you mind driving?" He asked. "This driving on the right-hand side of the road was very nearly my undoing."

Shego smiled as she took the keys and climbed into the driver's seat. While she didn't think much of the subcompact Monty had acquired, it wasn't like they were going to be keeping it for very long. A nice thing about being a thief was that you were never more than the next heist away from moving up the style ladder. Still, the small car didn't attract any attention when they parked it in a fast-food restaurant parking lot, a half-mile away from Monty's apartment. The two caught a city bus to the neighborhood and were soon sitting in the apartment's only two chairs. Monty briefed her on the details that he wouldn't trust to email, even encrypted email.

"I can't believe that I didn't recognize Morse code," Shego shook her head. "How did I miss it?"

"Because like a modern operative, you were looking to track the signal," Monty explained. "You never thought that a tracking signal could provide information instead of location. I must confess that it was pure chance that made me guess what was happening." Here, the former Monkeyfist frowned, "of course, I could be mistaken."

"Not a chance," Shego snorted. "There's no way that pure chance could be repeating 'International Manufacturing' over and over, on the tracking chip's frequency."

"My belief, as well," Monty smiled. "Now, while waiting for you, I've taken the liberty of performing some additional observations." Here, Monty pulled out a city map, which he had marked with the utility company's substation coverage. "International Manufacturing owns three buildings within this area: There's a research facility, an administrative facility and a production facility."

"He's probably at the research facility," Shego concluded.

"That was my initial guess," Monty agreed. "But then I performed some additional investigations. First, I spent several afternoons at a pub, or bar, close by the research facility. If the conversations I overheard and started are any guide, he isn't being held in this building."

"Why do you say that?" Shego asked. "What kind of conversations did you overhear."

"I had to perform a great deal of deciphering," Monty shuddered. "Trust me, conversations between research engineers push the very limits of my understanding, and I hold a PHD. Anyway, I didn't need to understand their research so much as I wanted to hear them talk about access to their workspaces. It would seem that there are only two levels of clearance in this facility: general public and employee. If you are a research employee, you have the run of the entire facility."

"And this means?" Shego prompted.

"I don't think that the cousins are being held at the research facility," Monty replied. "There are simply too many employees, with complete access, for International Manufacturing to be holding known criminals there. At least one of them would have reported their employer to the authorities. Remember, both the UN and Global Justice have posted rewards for information leading to Drew Lipsky's recapture."

"I'll assume that you have another facility in mind," Shego deadpanned.

"The administrative facility," Monty insisted. "Yesterday, I performed a similar reconnaissance. I found that there are multiple levels of clearance in this facility. Granted, I've only had one day to compile information and it may seem rather flimsy evidence but…"

"It's the best thing for us to go on," Shego finished for him. "Since you've gotten this far, what do you suggest we do?"

"I would suggest that we spend the remainder of this week performing additional investigations," Monty proposed. "That way, we can make our move during the weekend, when there will be fewer employees in the building. I personally would like to inventory as many recent deliveries that I can, and perhaps interview some of the custodial service employees."

"What about me?" Shego asked.

"I hope you will assist me," Monty informed her. "While the International Manufacturing facility has solid security, perhaps some of the organizations that service the building do not. We may learn a great deal by investigating the companies that service their heating and air conditioning systems, provide plumbing services, and so on. In addition to this, perhaps you will find more information than I did by spending time at a nearby bar."

Shego gave him an odd look, so he continued, "a combination of a few stiff drinks and an alluring young woman may make some of the men more talkative."

"I'm not that good at being a seductress," Shego informed him.

"I beg to differ."

"Hey, not everyone's a psycho that can handle the likes of me!" Shego couldn't keep the smile off of her face, "but I'm willing to give the good girl act a try. We might as well turn in; tomorrow's going to be a long day. Besides, I really need to work out some tensions."

Montgomery Fiske found warm, emerald lips banishing his rational thoughts, once again. _"A troubling tendency,"_ Fiske thought, then realized that he really shouldn't be worrying about it.

* * *

_Wednesday_

"This is so not a good time to get called out on a Pump bust," Kim grumbled, stalking down a wooded slope behind Eastside High.

"Uh, just for clarification," Ron interrupted. "When _is_ a good time to get called out on a Pump bust?"

"Ron, we're getting random here," Kim growled back, then realized that it _was_ a pretty funny remark, and true. "Okay," she continued. "Let's talk about why this is a worse time than usual to get called out on a Pump bust. First, you'll be leaving for the state tournament the day after tomorrow. Second, I'll be leaving the day after that, for the next cheerleading competition. Third, we had a possible Shego sighting at the Detroit airport, and we're ignoring it to deal with this sitch. Finally, I really needed to catch the Pre-Calc class today, since we have a quiz next week. I'll have to interrupt some of your video gameage on Sunday so that Felix can go over his notes with me."

"It's all good, KP," Ron assured her. The blonde boy never considered time spent with either Felix, or Kim, to be wasted time. "By the way, just who are we looking for here, again? I was zoning out when Wade was talking during our ride."

"Okay, a witness spotted an actual transaction taking place in the Eastside Gym. She called school security and both parties broke and ran this way. There's an abandoned boiler plant down this path and it's a favorite hiding place for ditching classes. The police are on their way, but they're hoping that we'll be able to talk the two suspects into just giving up before they get here."

"This will be the first time we've had a chance to catch a dealer, won't it?" Ron asked.

"Unless you count Bonnie," Kim answered. "But I don't count her, since her supplier had already moved on."

"Well, there it is," Ron pointed through the trees, toward a brick building. "How do you want to handle this?"

The two teens hid in the trees and sent Rufus to peek inside the building. Kim and Ron only had a few minutes to wonder what was happening before a very agitated naked mole rat scampered back to their hiding space. Kim swore she could almost understand his frantic chitters. Fortunately, Ron was there to translate.

"Rufus says that there are two boys in the building," Ron reported. "And that they're arguing about whose fault it is that they were caught."

"No time to think further," Kim decided. "Two pump-heads could do an awful lot of damage to each other!"

Kim and Ron sprinted for the building, quickly spotting an open door. Kim led the way as they burst inside to see that one of the boys had the other boy pinned to the ground.

"It's your fault, you idiot," The first boy screamed, smashing a fist into the other's face. "I'm gonna lose my scholarship because of you! I'm not gonna go to college because of you. It's all your fault!" The other boy's face was covered with blood.

"Get off of him!" Kim screamed, landing a flying front kick that sent the first boy sprawling to his back. The redhead took advantage of the lull to toss Ron her Kimmunicator. "Look after the other one and tell Wade that we need an ambulance," she instructed her partner. "I'll take care of this one!"

"Right," Ron agreed, activating the device and dropping to his knees next to the victim.

"So, it looks like they sent in the little bitch-hero now," the first boy snarled, staggering to his feet. The boy charged forward, showing no clumsiness, and unleashed a powerful blow at Kim's head. Kim directed the punch past her, where it struck the brick wall. Caught in close quarters, Kim hit him with two elbows to his head. The boy staggered back slightly, giving Kim the room she needed to drive a knee into his belly. The boy should have gone down but, cranked up on Pump, he not only remained on his feet but also unleashed another punch.

This one actually caught Kim with a grazing blow on the side of her head. Refusing to hesitate, Kim rolled her head with the punch, caught the fist and spun, throwing the boy over her back to slam, hard, flat on his back. Despite the fact that Kim could hear the air _whoosh_ out of his lungs, he didn't quit. He lashed out and caught Kim's ankle, pulling her off balance. The boy kept his grip while he struggled to his feet. Kim, unable to break his drug-enhanced hold, leapt into the air and drove her other foot into his chin.

Now, the boy released her ankle and flew backwards, into a wall. He bounced off and staggered forward, where Kim crouched low and spun, sweeping his feet out from under him with her extended leg. Again, the air rushed out of his lungs but again, he didn't give up. As much as Kim hated striking an opponent who was down, she had no choice. She drove her heel, hard, into his solar plexus. Finally, he lay still.

"You okay, KP?" Ron asked, from where he was tending the other boy.

"Yeah, he just got in a glancing shot," she answered, rubbing the side of her head. "How about this guy?"

"He's awake," Ron explained. "But I don't want him moving until the ambulance gets here. That guy you took down's a tough guy, so this one might have a neck or upper spine injury."

"You know him?" Kim asked, nodding to where her former opponent was only now beginning to move, feebly.

"Not very well," Ron admitted. "He was Eastside's starting quarterback this year. He had started for three years and made all-conference this year, now that Brick wasn't beating him out." Ron now frowned, "of course, I don't know how many colleges are going to be interested in him throwing the pigskin after he punched a brick wall with his throwing hand."

"Not to mention a drug charge," Kim added, suppressing a small tinge of guilt. She turned towards the other boy. "I hope you're happy about ruining his future for a few dollars."

"It wasn't me," the other boy protested, through bleeding lips. "He was an established client when I started to deal."

"You'll save yourself a lot of grief if you tell everyone whom you're buying this stuff from," Kim told him. "I'm not a cop, so I don't have to mirandize you before I ask you anything."

"It won't do you any good," the battered boy replied. Seeing her scowl, he continued, "don't get me wrong, I'd sell my supplier out in a moment but she's already moved on, this was my last sale. I don't know who's selling it now, just like I didn't know who was selling it before I did. I'm not loyal, Possible, you're just a day too late."

* * *

Yori Tanaka slipped through the dark streets of Middleton, intent upon reaching a bridge, under which both a creek and a bicycle path passed. The lithe ninja did not allow her troubled thoughts to dull her awareness as she floated lightly through back-alleys and empty lots. There were those who may see a petite girl, alone, as an opportunity and she had no intention of being spotted or, if spotted, to be taken unaware. She would almost welcome an attack.

Yori chided herself for such thoughts. She had learned that fighting was an action of last resort, not an action to distract one from ones troubles. The difficulties she was experiencing with Felix-kun were necessary for her mission, but that did not mean that she had to enjoy them. Felix-kun was an honorable, honest, caring young man and deserved honesty. Fate was indeed cruel, to force her to deceive such a young man. She only hoped that she could finish her mission quickly, so that she could, as the American's say, mend her fences.

A lifetime of training allowed the girl to remain unseen as she reached her goal. She was early, as intended, giving her time to observe the meeting point before she moved into it. She slipped under the bridge and pressed herself against the structure, where she would merge with the deeper shadows. Soon, she heard footsteps approaching and frowned; the approaching tread did not have her contact's rhythm. Moments later, an unfamiliar figure walked under the bridge and stopped.

"_Female_," Yori noted. "_Although she wears a bulky overcoat in an effort to disguise her gender. She is fit and graceful, but has no training in stealth. The fact that she is wearing perfume during a covert meeting tells me that she is either very vain, or foolish. Of course, vanity can become foolishness, when taken to excess."_

"Is anybody here?" The figure asked, in a high but quiet voice.

"I will not waste your time by noting that you are not Roy," Yori replied, stepping away from her hiding place. She took a small degree of enjoyment at the way the other woman jumped at her appearance. "Instead, I will ask you why Roy is not here."

"Roy's two weeks were up," the woman informed her. "He should have told you that you'd be doing business with someone else after two weeks."

"Indeed he did," Yori admitted. "Am I to understand that I will be purchasing my medicine from you for the next two weeks?"

"Maybe," the other woman answered. "I'm thinking of a different arrangement. How would you like to sell for the next two weeks? You'll make some serious money."

"And risk being caught," Yori pointed out.

"Nothing ventured, nothing gained," the supplier, for that is who she had to be, replied. "That's why I only do business with any dealer for two weeks; it keeps both of our risks under control."

"Perhaps you are correct," Yori answered. "Explain the details of your proposed arrangement."

For the next fifteen minutes, the other woman and Yori discussed sales, the volume of product to be sold, and the method by which the supplier would pass the product to Yori. She also explained how Yori would keep the supplier up to date on the 'client list', so that the supplier could pick another dealer, two weeks from now.

"I find the conditions acceptable," Yori informed the supplier. "I shall pick up the first delivery, in the storm drain behind Ted's Sub Shoppe, when I leave here."

"Are you interested in making even more money?" Her supplier asked her.

"What do I need to do, in order to earn it?" Yori asked.

"I've heard that you're close to Kim Possible and her freaky sidekick," the redhead's name came out like a curse.

"I count them among my friends," Yori confirmed.

"Well, if some of the product were to find its way onto one of them, say inside one of their lockers, in a pocket or a gym bag, then the proper authorities were to receive a tip, there'll be a major reward in the works."

"Several law enforcement agencies consider Team Possible to be a valuable resource," Yori countered. "And both members of Team Possible are capable martial artists. Such an effort incurs considerable risk."

"Considerable risk for a considerable reward," came the reply. Yori actually found herself impressed with the amount offered.

"Very well, I shall attempt it," Yori told her. "I cannot guarantee that I will be able to do so, but I shall attempt to plant this substance on one of the members of Team Possible."

* * *

"Okay, let's review what we have learned," Shego suggested, as she and Monty sat at the table after dinner.

"First, we have learned that the facility has received shipments from specialized electronics and machine companies," Monty replied. "This seems to suggest that there is some form of electronics and mechanical research taking place inside."

"Secondly," the fallen nobleman continued. "We have learned, from the custodial service company, that there are living quarters, with two rooms being used, inside the facility. This company is only allowed access during specific times, and only under escort. This suggests that there are two people living in the facility, whom International Manufacturing doesn't want interacting with the outside world."

"Finally, there's the after-hours bar gossip," Shego added. "The employees say that there are areas, inside the facility, that only a handful of employees are allowed to enter. So we have a facility with restricted areas; research taking place in an administrative office building, and two people being kept out of touch with the outside world. Coincidence?"

"Very unlikely," Fiske answered.

"I agree," Shego confirmed.

"You realize, of course, that they may not be held against their will," Monty pointed out. "While you did kidnap Edward, they may have found…suitable inducements…for him to stay of his own will. As for Dr. Drakken, he may be content performing the research."

"Possible, but I'm not buying it," Shego declared. "If that' the case, why is Doc sending signals with that chip?"

"A point well taken," Monty conceded. "I assume that you have some plans for a rescue attempt?"

"I've got a rough outline," Shego answered. "I want to flesh it out tomorrow and Saturday, then execute it on Sunday."

"Why so soon?"

"We can't afford to have me stay in one place for very long," Shego informed him. "No offense, Monty, but I've racked up a more impressive list of agencies that want me in custody than you have. We're secure in Guatemala, since the only people we interact with are other criminals, but the longer I stay here, exposed to the public, the more we risk getting caught."

"Very well, what have you come up with at this time?"

"We steal a van on Saturday," Shego began. "Law enforcement is a 24/7 type of thing, but they aren't quite as quick to act on the weekend. We also come up with an excuse to get me in the front door. We have a rough idea where the living quarters are located. On Sunday, we use our excuse to get me inside. Once inside, I power up and go after Drew. We count on the shock effect to let us nab him and clear out."

"Rather bold action, isn't it?"

"I remember reading some of Irwin Rommel's memoirs," Shego answered. "Two things really stuck with me. The first was how he handled offensive actions, as a junior officer in the First World War. His SOP was to get as close to the enemy as he could, without being detected. Once he was detected, he would go all-out, no probing or backing off. It worked well for him then, and it's worked well for me."

"I can see the wisdom," Monty agreed. "What is the second thing that, as you say, stuck with you?"

"Just a saying," Shego replied. "When faced with two, equally appealing courses of action, always choose the boldest. Now, we have some details to work out. We need to come up with our cover story, we need to find a safe place to run to after the grab, and we need to work out a route to get to the safe point."

"I believe I have some suggestions," Monty informed her.

Soon, the two were huddled over some notes and sketches, looking like a pair of teenagers working on a homework assignment.

* * *

Thursday

"Mom, dad, I'm home!" Kim shouted as she stepped in the Possibles' front door, later than usual.

"Did you see Ron off?" He mother asked, with a mischievous smile. Ron, the rest of the wrestling team and wrestling cheerleaders wouldn't be in school the next day. Round one of the state tournament started tomorrow morning and the Middleton contingent would be leaving around six A. M.

"Yes," Kim admitted. "I also got the pre-calc notes from Felix, so I can study tonight." Kim frowned at this last one. Again, Felix and Yori's…break up in all but name…had Felix depressed. When Felix was depressed, Ron was depressed and when Ron was depressed, she was depressed. Something like this, a breakup over a simple item, couldn't happen to her and Ron, could it?

"Is something bothering you?" Anne asked her daughter. "Other than your competition on Saturday?"

"It's the Yori and Felix sitch," Kim admitted, walking into the kitchen and taking a seat.

"It's never easy when friends break up," Anne replied, busying herself with dinner. "But you've seen friends break up before. What's wrong now?"

"I'm wondering if Ron and I can go down the same road," Kim admitted.

"You mean breaking up? The two of you are teenagers, so of course you mi…"

"It's not the teenage thing," Kim interrupted her mother. "It's the…so minor…disagreement that started it." Kim told her mother about the pump disagreement.

"That really seems an odd attitude for Yori to have," Anne admitted. "And since she seems able to 'agree to disagree' with the rest of you, her taking a hard line with Felix is more unusual."

"Yeah, and it makes me wonder if something so…trivial could break up Ron and I," Kim mumbled, looking down at the table. "Especially after I snapped at him and called him a…" Kim refused to say the word.

"But the two of you put it back together quickly, didn't you?" Anne asked.

"Yet that night," Kim agreed, then frowned.

"You still seem troubled," Anne commented. "Didn't you manage to put it completely back together?"

"No," Kim looked a little hesitant. "We…almost put it even more together, if you know what I mean."

"I think you're going to tell me about it now," Anne informed Kim, now focusing her full attention on her daughter. Kim glanced nervously at the kitchen's doorway.

"Your brothers are in the garage, working on something I really don't want to know about," Anne said, correctly interpreting Kim's concern. A loud bang sounded from the garage, causing the house to quiver and confirming Anne's statement. "And your father is still at work. They're dealing with a narrow launch window and he won't be home until late, so it's just you and me."

"Okay, we took the mission against the Mathter," Kim began. She described what had happened up to the point that they made camp and settled in to sleep.

"Okay, it sounds fairly tame so far," Anne commented. "I know this is going to sound like some sort of 900 telephone call, but what were the two of you wearing in the sleeping bag?"

"High-tech insulating underclothes that Wade had developed for us," Kim replied. When she noticed her mother's raised eyebrow, she continued, "sweatsuits, for all practical purposes."

"Okay, you set up the tent, leaving the front open to let the fire's heat in," Anne reviewed. "You cuddled up the in conjoined sleeping bag and went to sleep. I'm not seeing the close call here."

"That came later," Kim had developed an intense fascination with the tabletop. "During the night, Rufus had to slip out for a nature call and he woke me up when he crawled back into the bag. Ron's backside must have gotten cold during the night, because he had rolled over, so that we were back to back."

"Go on," Anne prompted, when Kim hesitated.

"Well, I realized that he had placed me between himself and the fire, knowing how much I hate being cold. I rolled over and glomped up behind him."

"Glomped?" Anne's expression showed both confusion and amusement.

"Spooning with the female behind," Kim clarified.

"And…" Anne prompted again.

"Well…while I was cuddled up to him, I realized that if he was to roll over again, face to face, things wouldn't stop at a makeout." Kim refused to meet her mother's eyes.

Silence reigned in the Possible kitchen for several minutes before Anne asked, "is that all?"

"Is that all?" Kim's face snapped back up. "You mean you're not freaked out about me nearly…"

"I don't think you're giving yourself, or Ronald, enough credit," Anne assured her. "I'm sure that one of you would have called a halt."

"I was expecting a major lecture," Kim admitted.

"You might have gotten one from your father," Anne giggled. "I think it comes with the territory. I'm a medical doctor so I tend to deal with human conditions. Your father's a rocket scientist, so he tries to overcome human frailties. I'm actually surprised that the two of you haven't had more close calls."

"We really haven't been…together that long," Kim pointed out.

"True, but he's been at your side for some very rough times," Anne explained. "Add to that, you've gone through a lot of dangerous, even deadly encounters. Take two teenagers; give them an adrenaline rush with a near-death experience, then leave them unsupervised and you have a very good chance of something happening. That's another reason I'm not terribly concerned about the two of you being alone; you've already been through enough together that you've had a chance to get a grip on your…baser instincts."

"Uh, mom?" Kim struggled to frame her thoughts. "This is going to sound ferociously wrong, coming from me to you, but I don't think you really understand how close I came to waking him up and telling him to roll over."

"Oh?" Anne smiled, with a twinkle in her eye. "How do you think you and your brothers came to be?"

"TMI territory mom!"

"Okay, let me ask you this, _did_ you ask Ronald to wake up and roll over?" Anne asked, with an amused look.

"No, but I was really tempted."

"And, if you had done so, how sure are you that Ronald would have gone along to the…conclusion?"

"Mom, he's a guy."

"Oh, and you're an expert in that regard?"

"Well," Kim blushed. "No."

"Here's a news flash, Kim. Just because he's a guy doesn't mean that he's going to throw away your decision to wait until after graduation, just because the opportunity presents itself. The two of you are going to be tempted quite a bit, but I have every confidence that you'll make wise decisions."

"So you're not mad?" Kim asked.

"Mad? Why should I be mad that you were, in your own words, severely tempted and didn't cave in?" Anne smiled even wider and continued, "I'm going to say something that, in your own words, sounds ferociously wrong coming from me to you. The thought of you engaging in those activities doesn't really bother me."

Anne looked up to see her daughter's mouth and eyes competing to see which could open the widest. The brain surgeon stifled a giggle and explained herself.

"You're not a nun, Kim, so you're going to become intimate at some point. The only things that I really worry about are that you're doing it for the right reasons, that you've taken the suitable precautions and that you're not jumping into that aspect too quickly. That's why I think that you and Ronald have made a wise decision by deciding to wait; you have a very good chance of making this last forever and I don't want to see you ruining it by moving too fast."

"So that night…" Kim prompted.

"Would have been a mistake," Anne told her, in a firm voice. "You were still probably on an adrenaline rush from taking on The Mathter and you were on an emotional roller coaster from your near breakup, then makeup with Ron. If it had happened, you both would have probably regretted it."

"It really snuck up me," Kim admitted. "I mean, it was so not a romantic setting. Instead of candlelight, roses, soft music and silk sheets; it was a campfire, cedar boughs, a prairie blizzard and a fiberfill sleeping bag. Not only that, but a naked mole rat was using my right calf as a futon."

"Romantic feelings aren't limited to romantic settings," Anne chided her, then frowned slightly. "This is probably a good time for me to bring up something that's been bothering your father."

"I thought he got over me and Ron," Kim groaned.

"It's his job to worry about you," Anne informed her, rather sternly. "He brought this up to me, to discuss and I think he has a valid concern. He's seen how Ronald has started to take down some of your opponents and he's worried that Ronald might become…aggressive towards you."

"Ron? Aggressive towards me?" Kim could only stare at her mother.

"He is becoming comfortable tangling with people," Anne pointed out. "Your father read the report about him incapacitating Bonnie and became concerned."

"This is something that we don't like to advertise," Kim's voice was very quiet and very serious. "But every time he chokes out a female, he has a long talk with one of Global Justice's counselors. It really hurts him when he has to take aggressive action against a girl."

"Do his parents know about this?" Anne gasped.

"In vague terms," Kim answered. "Since Global Justice has declared us a freelance team, it gives us access to some of their support system. A spokesman told the Stoppables that it's strictly preventative in nature and a good sign that he has an adverse reaction to attacking people." Kim snorted a laugh, "Gene Stoppable understands risk management and proactive solutions, so he was all for it."

"So to address your worries," she continued. "I just can't see Ron trying to…well…force his attentions on me."

"I can't either," Anne assured her daughter. "Now, why don't you help me set the table, then go out and bring in your brothers? You're a lot better at dodging than I am and I'd rather not get hit with whatever they're working on."

The house shuddered again, almost as if agreeing with the brain surgeon.

* * *

_Saturday_

Ron stretched out on the mat, keeping himself limber for the upcoming matches. He had won his opening match yesterday and had followed it up with a victory in the second round, this morning. With the consecutive wins, he had realized his goal of placing in the tournament. If he were to lose all the rest of his matches, he would still wind up placing eighth. However, he was still undefeated and had no intention of starting to lose now.

He was much happier than he had been last year. At the same time last year, he had already lost a match, was suffering from a hip pointer, had recently broken up with his girlfriend and was convinced that his 'rents didn't care if he won or lost. Now, his 'rents were here to see him compete, he and KP were stronger than ever, he was uninjured and still in the upper bracket. Still, there were some concerns, other than his next match.

First of all, he was worried about his best friend. This past week, Yori had cut Felix completely out of her life, outside of school. From what Monique could dig up, Yori wasn't hanging out with anybody, outside of school. She showed up in the morning, went to classes, talked with them during lunch, then left after the last class. Nobody knew what she was doing and she wasn't talking. Felix was at the point where he was ready to break up with her, just to finish off the sad, faded remains of what had once been a wonderful relationship.

Ron was also worried about the three-way interaction between Team Possible, Pump, and the vindictive press, led by Rita Richards. Last night, in the hotel room, he and Oscar had clicked on to one of the televised, scandal-rag type of shows. There was Rita Richards, first speculating that Kim and Ron had been caught selling the drug to the two Eastside students then suggesting an alternate reason why Kim had been in the abandoned building with three boys. Oscar had had to physically restrain Ron from punching the television.

The fact was that the vast majority of Team Possible's press coverage was positive. Still, it irritated Ron that nobody seemed to demand that Rita and her cronies show any form of proof to go along with their allegations. Ron shook his head; he had no idea how to deal with the attack-press.

One of the tournament officials got on the paging system, telling the wrestlers to clear the mat for the next round. Ron got up and found his parents, and Hanna, for a little light conversation. After that, he went in search of Monique.

"Hey blondie," Monique greeted him. "You ready for your next match? Another win puts you into the championship match."

"Yeah, I'll be ready," Ron assured her. "What have you heard from Kim?"

"We talked a few minutes ago," Monique told him, holding up one of their old Kimmunicators. "The squad was getting ready for their opening routine, so she couldn't talk very long."

"Okay, just keep me up on the action."

"That's one of the reasons I'm here," Monique assured him. "Oh! There's one of the other reasons!"

With that, Monique was off to talk to Mat. Ron, however, was quickly distracted when another official called for his weight class to report to the ready area.

"_Just six minutes_," Ron mused. "_That's what most of the detractors say, when they say that wrestling isn't much of a sport. Each match is only six minutes, at the most. How hard can it be?"_ Ron smirked as he remembered what he had found out in his first few weeks on the team: A match might only be six minutes long, but it was the hardest six minutes of your life.

* * *

"We have our cover story in place," Monty reiterated, checking the item off on the clipboard he was holding. "And we have the 'emergency' ready to occur. We have our approach vehicle prepared, two getaway routes scouted, and our getaway vehicle pre-positioned. We also have three bolt-holes, as you call them, scouted, in case things go poorly and we're forced to hide."

"Why are you smirking?" Shego demanded, from her seat on the edge of the bed.

"This little endeavor should only take a few minutes," Monty answered. "Yet I have performed two-month excavations with the same level of preparation."

"You're dealing with the big boys," Shego informed him. "What's more, you're not dealing with an organization that wants to keep a low profile, like Yamanouchi. International Manufacturing will be more than willing to call in the authorities after we make our move. We could have local, state and federal law enforcement agencies looking for us."

"I bow to your greater experience," Fiske conceded, dipping his head and matching deed to word. "Now, on with the list; we have obtained some medical supplies and a small store of food. We have two, complete changes of clothing for everyone Edward included." Monty grimaced at the last statement, "Are we really going to liberate the big ape?"

"We might as well," Shego told him. "We'll ditch him the first night. He'll run back to New Jersey, hopefully taking some of the heat with him."

"Yes, Edward is an excellent decoy," Fiske mused. "Large, loud, and lacking in intelligence. Now, where was I? Oh yes, we have purchased several cans of your spray-on tan. May I ask why?"

"Part of the disguise," she informed him. "A tan man and woman are less noticeable than a blue man and a green woman."

"Ah, I should have realized. Three routes out of the country…check. A safe-house for Dr. Drakken…check. Forged passports and identity papers…check. I believe that covers our entire list. You're sure about our execution time?"

"Six forty-five tomorrow morning," Shego confirmed. Weekend security has a shift change at eight. The graveyard shift will be distracted, thinking about getting off work. The morning shift won't be showing up for over an hour."

"I must say, I never realized you were such a thorough and capable planner!" Fiske shook his head. "Why weren't you calling the shots, before Drakken executed his diablo scheme?"

"It's like I told you and the birdbrain back in Wyoming. I'm not a strategic sort of person. I don't do the 'take over the world' or the 'establish a criminal financial empire' sort of thing, but I know how to get a job done."

"Indeed," Monty smirked. "And I find your competence strangely arousing."

"Later, mister. Now, I think that we should set up a few surprises in case the cops show up."

With that, the duo went back to planing. Shego was secretly pleased by Monty's last remark. They would want to turn in early tonight, to be ready for an early start tomorrow.

She could use a little…tension relief.

* * *

Kim maintained her pose, with the rest of the squad, while the judges displayed their scores. With the last score displayed, the squad rushed off of the stage, cheering their performance while Kim allowed her expression to fall from the 'overly perky' smile and to her natural, happy expression. That was one thing that most critics of 'performance athletics' didn't grasp; holding the intensely happy expression could be almost as difficult as the gymnastics and tumbling. This was one aspect where cheerleading was more difficult than fighting supervillains. During a takedown, nobody minded if she frowned, grimaced or snarled.

Kim quickly added up the scores in her head, comparing them to the previous squads' marks. It looked like they were in first place, but the two, top-ranked squads were yet to perform. Kim congratulated the other girls, sharing high fives and embraces, before excusing herself. Cindy and the tweebs were right behind her as she pulled the Kimmunicator out of her gym bag and called Monique.

"What's the sitch at your end," She asked her best friend.

"Okay, bad news first," Monique told her. "Ron lost his semi-final match."

"How bad?" Kim asked, feeling her shoulders slump a little. Behind her, the tweebs also showed their disappointment.

"That was the hard part," Monique answered. "He lost by a single point, after two overtime periods. The coaches just about had to carry him and his opponent off of the mat."

"How's he taking it?"

"Hard," Monique frowned. "It would have been better if he got pinned. He's having a hard time taking that close of a loss. His dad, Coach Winters, and Oscar are talking to him right now. I'd be talking to him, but those three are doing a better job. Now, for the good news; I assume that Cindy's with you."

"Right here," Cindy informed her, from behind Kim's right shoulder.

"Your MFBF is still on fire," Monique told her. "He pinned his semi-final opponent and is going for his second championship. Nobody has taken him to the second period yet this year." Monique's expression grew sly, "I don't know what he's like on a date, but that boy's a real force of nature out on the mat."

"Classified information, Jenkins," Cindy shot back, with a false, severe tone. "How'd your MFBF do?"

"He got pinned in the third period of his semi-final," Monique answered. "But it's okay; I'll be able to console him later. The wrestlebacks have started, so Ron's going to be back in action in another hour or so. What's the sitch at your end?"

"We're in the lead, by four and a half points," Kim answered.

"You can do that math in your head?" Cindy demanded.

"Can't everybody?" Jim and Tim responded.

"Anyway," Kim waved off the distractions and continued her conversation. "The two top-ranked squads are performing, but we're going to make the evening session. I'm going to have to run soon, so please tell our BFs that we're proud of them."

"Will do," Monique assured her friend. "And I'm sure they're going to be impressed, as well."

Kim turned off the Kimmunicator and returned it to her bag. She would ordinarily carry it with her, but that was considered poor form at a cheer competition.

"I'm heading back to watch the competition," She told Cindy. "Care to join me."

"Sure thing."

Kim was happy; the squad was doing well and Ron, even though he lost a match, should be in a fairly good mood when she saw him again, tomorrow.

Just a little bit of consolation could be a wonderful thing.

* * *

_Sunday_

"We're from the Telephone Company," Shego told the security guard at International Manufacturing's administrative facility. "Our dispatcher told us that you had some problems with your phone lines."

"Okay, we're expecting you," the guard replied, after checking his clipboard. "It seems that our outside lines aren't working." The man opened the door and let Shego and Monty, wearing telephone company uniforms, inside.

"My records show that you have four outgoing lines, plus a fax line, all on a fiberoptic line," Shego continued, looking at her own clipboard. She didn't, of course, have any such records. She and Monty had broke in to the Telephone Company last night, and had reviewed these records, just before disconnecting the outgoing feed at the local office. "Do you know if any of the phones, inside this building, are working?"

"I'm afraid not," the guard admitted.

"No problem," Shego informed him. "If you can just let us into an office, with the fax machine, we'll figure it out ourselves."

"Have you ever answered a service call in this office before?" The guard asked.

"No," Shego answered. It was true enough.

"You're going to have to leave any radios, cell phones, digital cameras, and other electronics here," the guard informed her. "We have lockers for you to secure them. The only electronics I can let you keep is test equipment, like multi-meters. Also, one of us guards will have to accompany you wherever you go."

"No problem," Shego answered. "Do you have radios we can use? It will go much faster if one of us goes to the incoming phone board and the other can roam the building."

"No," the guard admitted. "But since you'll both be with one of us, you'll be able to talk over our radios."

"Good enough," Shego told him. "We left our cell phones in the van. We haven't worked here before, but we've worked in other secure facilities."

"Okay, how do you want to work this?"

"Why don't you have another guard escort my partner here to the phone board while you take me to one of the offices?"

"Fair enough," the guard told her, while requesting a second guard. "I don't understand why our company policy requires that we fix these things over the weekend. I'm sure that it could have waited until Monday."

"You're probably at your busiest on Monday mornings," Shego answered. "Your office staff will need every outgoing line to take care of any issues that cropped up during the weekend."

"That makes sense," the guard admitted. Another guard appeared and the two split up, as Shego had suggested.

As soon as Monty and his guard reached the telephone board, he made a show of metering the incoming fiberoptic cable. "It appears that the incoming fiberoptic signal is in good shape," he reported. "That means that the problem must on the internal copper, or the converter box." Indeed, the fiberoptic was in good shape; he had reconnected it at the local office before answering the service call.

"Okay, stand by," Shego replied, over her guard's radio. "Do you know which office reported the problem?" She asked her guard.

"No," he admitted.

"Well, you're dealing with a two-hour double rate service call on a Sunday," Shego informed him. "And we have less than a half-hour involved. It won't cost you any more money if we spend an hour checking all of the offices and try to isolate the problem."

"That sounds good to me," he replied. "But there are some areas I can't let you in. Heck, even we don't have access to some areas."

"That could be a problem," Shego admitted. "Tell you what, could you show me to the border of the restricted area? I'll try to eliminate the areas surrounding it, first. If the problem's inside this area, we'll be able to disconnect it, and bring the rest of the building on line."

"Good idea," the guard told her. "This way."

The guard led her deeper into the facility, in roughly the direction where she suspected Drakken's prison to be located. Finally, the guard stopped at a door.

"The restricted area is past this door," he told her. "I don't know what's in there."

"Just to make sure, there's absolutely no way that you can let me in there?"

"Correct," the guard confirmed. "It would be my job if I did. Not that I could; I don't have the access code for the keypad."

"Okay, I'm not trying to pull anything," Shego gave him a commiserating smile, then studied the hallway. "Okay, the door is in the north wall of this hallway, and there's no other doors on the north wall, so I'm going to assume that the wall forms the boundary of the restricted area."

"Your guess is as good as mine," the guard shrugged.

"Okay, can we hit the rooms along the south wall, and see if the phones are connected?"

"No problem," the guard told her, and opened the nearest such door.

"Can I borrow your radio?" Shego asked, as she stepped through the door and into the office. When the guard handed her the radio she keyed it and said, "Joe, lets go with plan one, now."

"Could I make use of your radio?" Monty asked his attendant, when they heard Shego's transmission. The guard handed the radio to Monty, who replied over the radio. "Plan one, agreed, give me a moment to prepare."

"May I hold on to the radio?" Monty asked the guard. "I will need to speak to my partner, quite frequently."

"Sure," the guard shrugged. "What's plan one?"

"I will disconnect the incoming fiberoptic line and connect the local copper to my test set," Monty informed him. "My partner will connect her test equipment at various offices, so that we can tell if any wire has been shorted."

"You're the experts," the man shrugged, as Monty disconnected the fiberoptic feed. Now, the facility had no phone lines or internet access.

"Now I need to locate, ah there it is!" Monty pointed at a random electrical box on the ceiling, causing the guard to look at it, almost by reflex. As soon as the man looked up, Monty drove a knee, hard, into his groin.

As the guard slumped to the floor, Montry caught him and drove a knee into his belly. He then pulled a pair of extra-large tie-wraps out of his tool belt and secured the guards hands behind him. Monty sat the still dazed man in a corner, tie-wrapped his feet together, then fastened his hands to a piece of exposed conduit. Finally, he used electrical tape to secure a piece of cloth over the man's mouth. Finished, he picked up the radio and reported, "I'm ready here."

"Okay, give me a sec," Shego answered. Then she turned to her attendant and asked, "Could you press this button on the phone while I listen for my partner?"

"Which button?" The guard asked.

"This one," Shego answered, and delivered a roundhouse kick to the side of the man's head. Before the stunned guard even realized that he had been attacked, Shego had him bound and gagged.

"Just stay put and you won't get hurt," Shego told him with a smirk. "At least, not any worse than you are right now. I'm ready here," she said, into the radio.

"We seem to be in luck," Monty replied. "The incoming telephone line appears to be in the same room as the main electrical breaker."

"Perfect," Shego said. "Let's hit it."

Montgomery Fisk turned off the main breaker. Emergency lights activated moments later, illuminating sections of the hallways. Shego ran to the door the guard had just shown her and kicked it hard. It was a sturdy door; she had to kick it four times before it gave way.

"_Hang in there Drew,"_ she thought, charging into the unknown section of the building. _"I'm on my way."_

"Guard post to units one and two, respond," The head guard was irritated. He wasn't that shook up when the lights went out, but why didn't the generator kick in and power up his systems? Sure, the access control and fire alarm systems were battery backed, they'd stay active for about a day or so, but without power, he didn't have his surveillance cameras. He was effectively blind and his two assistants weren't answering their radios!

"Guard post to units one and two, come in. Frank! Dan! Where are you?" He counted to thirty; no response. The head guard was no idiot; he had been drilled on his SOP. He quickly punched another button on his battery-backed console.

DNAmy had been sleeping in this morning. She lived in the secure area of International Manufacturing's administrative building. While the accommodations weren't luxurious, she had lived in far worse. Besides, there weren't too many places a nine-foot tall, green woman could live and not gain a great deal of unwanted attention. Her quarters were well sound insulated, so the hustle and commotion in the offices and the secret laboratory didn't bother her. This morning, however, a buzz from a wall intercom station woke her up.

Amy clicked on her bedside lamp, but it didn't turn on. Frowning, she noticed that the only light in her room was from an emergency lighting unit, in her hallway. It was very dim but Amy had provided her new body with excellent night vision. She easily spotted the intercom station and hit the answer button.

"Go ahead," she said.

"Agent one, this is the guard post," announced the voice from the speaker. "We have lost all telephone lines and power. The generator has not come on and the roving guards are not answering their radios. According to our procedures, I am to ask you for instructions. Do you want me to contact the police?"

"Not yet," Amy told him. "Did anything happen before you lost contact with the guards?"

"The telephone company's repair crew showed up to fix our phones," he answered. "The woman was with Dan and the British guy was with Frank."

"British guy?" Amy gasped. "Does the woman have long, black hair and a short, athletic build?"

"Yes ma'am," the guard replied. "Do you know these two? Are they dangerous?"

"Very dangerous," Amy informed him, jumping to her feet.

"Shall I call the police?" He repeated.

"NO!" Amy snapped. "Stay at your post and lock all of the doors! Use your cell phone and contact the facility manager. Tell him that we have a level blue emergency, he'll know what that means. Also, contact the on-call guards and have them lock down the building. I am going to secure our…classified subjects. I will contact you in fifteen minutes."

"But ma'am," the guard protested. "I won't be able to contact you, via cell phone, if you leave your quarters. The secure area is shielded against communications!"

"I know that!" Amy snapped back. "This is an emergency, so get moving. If the manager gets in before I contact you, brief him on what has happened here. Now, get moving!"

Amy clicked the intercom off and stood for a moment, lost in thought. If Shego and Monty were here, that could only mean that they had tracked down Drew. How, she had no idea. Her two adversaries were smart, so they would head directly for the restricted area, then probably guess, correctly, that the Lipsky boys were being held in the basement. She could track down the hussy and the…ungrateful wretch…by heading straight for the secret lab and waiting for them to come to her.

Suddenly, another thought occurred to her; Shego was placing herself in a position for Amy to capture her! Imagine the fun and interesting things that could be done with the green slut's genetics! With a huge smile, DNAmy pulled a special item out of a locker, then ambled off towards the secret lab.

"Aw man, this tanks, seriously!" Ed protested. "Why does the power have to go off on Sunday? It's the only day we get off and Motormind was just about to come on, on the Guy Channel, seriously."

"As if I'm really enjoying it," Drakken grumbled back. "This power outage robbed me of the best part of the Snowman Hank marathon."

The cousins' complaints were interrupted by a muffled, crashing sound. Ed and Drew shared a look. They had guessed that their prison had an inner and outer barrier. Drew suspected that the door he couldn't exit led to an office facility, populated by people privy to the secret laboratory. Beyond this, he suspected that there was some form of facility, populated by ordinary employees. He tried to add things up; the power went out, then someone broke something. Either someone had become clumsy in the dark (one of the reasons Drakken didn't keep cats in his lairs, he still had the claw marks in his calf), someone had panicked and forced their way out of the building or…someone was forcing their way in?

"Ed?" He whispered to his cousin. "Do you think this might be our best chance to…"

His question was interrupted again, this time by a much closer crash; it sounded like someone had forced that door that The Slab and Mr. Sunshine always used! Drew and Ed shared a look, then crept into the darkened lab. A short figure was silhouetted against the faint light coming through the doorway.

"Drakken?" A familiar voice whispered. "Is that you?"

"Shego!" Drakken called out. "You figured out my message!" Unable to contain himself, he rushed forward and embraced the mercenary. For a moment, she hugged him back, then

"Drew," she said, releasing him and becoming completely businesslike. "I need to know, are they holding you against your will? Is this some sort of torture chamber?"

"Yes, they're holding us against our will!" Drew snapped back. "But that's not the worst! They're going to try to take over the world. It's like my diablo plot, but bigger! The space mining is just a front to hide what they're really doing. I don't know when everything is going to go down, but it's going to be soon! They have almost all the pieces in place!"

"We're getting you out of here," She declared. "Hurry, follow me!"

"So not happening toots, seriously," Motor Ed growled at her. "It was you that put me in here, seriously. I was just getting my life straightened out and what happens? You show up, rough me up and seriously cram some sort of bug up my…"

"My, my, my," Three sets of eyes spun around to see a large figure enter the same door Shego had just burst through. Two sets of eyes narrowed in fear while the third set widened in shock. "Quite the reunion we have here, isn't it? You shouldn't have come here, Shego. We weren't harming them, much. Now, you gave Drew the chance to snitch on us so none of you will be leaving here."

"You seem to know _me_," Shego ignited her hands. "So you know that you're setting yourself up for a world of hurt. I'll give you one chance to get out of our way."

"I don't think so," The woman replied. She produced a large, metallic cylinder, which she held out in front of her. She touched a control and the device telescoped, forming a staff with enlarged ends. "Not this time, Shego. You won't find it so easy to intimidate me."

"Why don't we try?" Shego asked. "Drew, Ed, get out of here."

"Not so fast," the woman retorted, producing a control. She pressed a button, causing a shriek behind Shego. The mercenary glanced behind her to see Ed writhing on the floor, emitting a high pitched squeal.

"Ed, this is no time to be playing your air guitar," Shego snarled at the big man.

"He…isn't…" Drew gasped, crawling out from behind a counter. The blue man was clutching at his neck, where Shego could see…

"Shock collars?" The mercenary roared at her oversized adversary. "Okay sister! Let's dance!"

Shego let loose a carefully aimed blast, frying the control in the woman's hand. Silently praying, to any God that would answer to her, that such an action would stop the shock, Shego closed in, ducked a swing from the woman's staff, and kicked her in the stomach. The woman stumbled back against a wall and Shego closed in to finish her off. Shego was completely surprised when her oversized adversary managed to land a powerful upercut.

"_She's even stronger than her size suggests_," Shego realized, as she flew backwards. She tried to tumble, but a laboratory wasn't the best place for such maneuvers. She crashed through a rack of glass beakers, hoping that the contents wouldn't burn her, or explode when mixed.

"Okay, the kid gloves are off!" Shego roared. Springing away from the spilled chemicals, in case any of them were flammable, she unleashed a series of plasma blasts at her adversary, forcing the large woman to dodge. While her adversary was large, powerful, and agile, she wasn't very well trained. Shego closed in again, launching plasma to keep her foe off balance. Once in close, she dropped into a crouch and spun, sweeping the woman's feet. The giant fell onto her butt and Shego sprang onto her back, wrapping one arm around her neck and choking the woman.

Shego's eyes flew wide when that slender but powerful neck tensed, maintaining the airway. It was like trying to choke an I-beam! The woman lurched to her feet, barely noticing Shego's weight. Growing desperate, Shego released the choke, put a hand on each side of the woman's head, and unleashed her plasma in direct, skin-to-skin contact.

The giantess screamed, but still rose to her feet, reached back and grabbed Shego by the back of her shirt. Before Shego could react, the large woman hurled her through the air. The mercenary flew through another workstation, shattering a monitor and a shelving unit, before crashing into a wall. Shego felt ribs give way when she hit the wall and slid to the floor.

"Figuring out how to deal with your plasma was a challenge," her adversary admitted, rising the rest of the way to her feet. But I enjoy challenges. It turns out that a little electric eel DNA made me highly resistant. You can cause me pain but no real damage." The woman smiled and said, "not bad for an overbearing, dumpy woman with no style, wouldn't you say?"

"Amy?" Shego gasped. "Is that you?"

"I used to be Amy," the large woman informed her. "But I'm a geneticist, so I can become what ever I decide to be. I decided it was time to create a body that could take down a certain loudmouthed hussy, who had come by her powers by accident."

"Amy, why are you doing this?" Drakken gasped from his resting-place. The blue man was still quivering, unable to stand or even crawl. Still, he had to know. "W-what do you hope to gain? If you attack the world, you won't gain any satisfaction. I tried! All you will do is kill a lot of people, create a lot of misery, and become known as a warmonger!"

"What has this world ever done for me?" Amy spat back, stalking towards Shego. "I was a genius, my work should have gained me a position of respect and admiration. Instead, I was reviled and ridiculed because I was unimposing and not attractive. Well, it's time for the world to see what genius can become when it's slighted! If the world will look at me as a warmonger, fine! From now on, DNAmy is dead and I will be known as Warmonga!"

Shego interrupted the newly named Warmonga by hitting her with a series of plasma blasts. While the blasts didn't inflict the massive damage they would have upon a normal person, they inflicted pain. Bellowing like an enraged elephant, Warmonga charged Shego, who had just struggled to her feet, and thrust with her staff weapon. The earlier beating had slowed Shego's reflexes; she managed to deflect the blow from her face but it hit her shoulder. In addition to the impact, she felt a poke and realized that there had been a needle in the weapon. Hoping that whatever Am...Warmonga had injected her with wouldn't affect her, she turned with the blow and landed a thrust kick on her opponent's knee.

The blow injured the giantess's knee, forcing her to drop to that knee. Shego ignored her pain and lurched forward, delivering a punch that would have torn Kimmie in half, to Warmonga's face. Solidly on the offensive, the mercenary launched a roundhouse kick at Warmonga's temple but the former Amy rallied. Warmonga brought her arm up and blocked the kick, then seized the extended foot with her hand. Lurching to her feet, keeping most of her weight on one leg, she lifted Shego completely off of the ground.

Roaring in rage, Warmonga spun the dazed Shego around twice before hurling her through the air. Shego crashed through the secure door, which had swung shut after Warmonga entered the lab, and smashed into a wall on the other side. She couldn't so much as lift her head to look as she heard Warmonga limp forward to tower over her.

"It's time to end this," the giantess declared, lining up her staff for the final blow. Shego could only wait for the end.

When Shego's plasma blasts started, Monty suspected that she would need assistance. While he didn't know exactly where the mercenary had gone, the combat sounds proved a reasonable guide. Rushing to the end of a corridor, Fiske collided bodily with another guard, who was every bit as surprised as the Englishman. Monty, however, didn't hesitate. He launched a hurricane of knees and elbows, quickly incapacitating the shocked guard. Monty paused a moment, then grabbed some items from the man's equipment belt. While the guard wasn't armed, he did have a can of pepper spray and some keys.

Straightening, Fiske continued to follow the sounds of what was apparently a very intense struggle. He rushed through a broken door, down a corridor and into a stairwell. He descended two flights of stairs. From there, he rushed down another corridor, just in time to see Shego crash through another door, bounce off a wall and come to rest, motionless, on the ground. A huge woman ducked through the doorway to tower over his lover, prepared to crush her with some form of staff.

Monty knew that anyone who could defeat Shego would have no difficulty with him, so he sprang forward and unleashed the pepper spray directly into the giant's eyes. She shrieked in rage and staggered backwards. One of her knees wouldn't hold her weight and she fell to the ground. Fiske had only a moment to gawk at her before…

"Monty…run!" Fiske looked up to see Drew Lipsky, rising shakily to his hands and knees. Behind the blue man, Ed Lipsky lay on his back, writhing feebly. "You can't beat her," the mad scientists told him. "Take Shego and get out of here! The world has to know what they're doing!"

The giant was now struggling to rise again, much faster than anyone who had been 'peppered' should have. Knowing that he couldn't defeat such a foe and that his companions were in no condition to either assist or flee, Fiske made his decision. He threw his lover over his shoulders, flinching at the agonized hiss she emitted when he did so. With one last look at the demolished lab and its occupants, he turned and ran back the way he had come.

Lord Montgomery Fiske wasn't too proud to run like hell.

* * *

_A/N: Once again, I'd like to thank everyone who's stayed with me this long. _

_I'd like to mention Joe Stoppinghem again, for his patient Beta work._

_Until my next update, best wishes:_

_daccu65_


	46. Another Eventful Week

* * *

Chapter 46: Another Eventful Week

The commuters bustled on their way to work intent upon starting a new week. Most of those who chose this particular route had been traveling it for years and had learned to ignore the abandoned warehouse along their way. Some of the more long-term travelers could even recall when it was in operation, although few of them knew what had actually been stored inside. None of the commuters, however, knew that one of the world's most wanted criminals was now inside, or that her partner was observing them.

Lord Montgomery Fiske looked out over the stream of cars, busses and other vehicles filing past his current retreat, wondering if any of them might contain individuals searching for him. While he remained on edge, it appeared as if he had evaded his pursuers, at least temporarily. The fact that the two of them remained at liberty was a testament to Shego's thorough planning.

Yesterday, after fleeing the disastrous rescue attempt, he had made use of the transportation network they had established. However, with Shego injured, he didn't dare move her very far. Instead, he had 'gone to ground,' so to speak, in one of the hideaways they had scouted. He smirked, remembering that Shego had suggested his current course of action.

"Don't call attention to yourself," the mercenary had gasped, from the back of the van. "Follow the speed limit and obey all the traffic laws. We'll transfer vehicles, just like we planned. Don't worry about the cops; what Amy was doing was illegal, so she won't call the police, at least until she's had time to cover up her activities. We've got a day or two before official law enforcement gets involved, if it ever does."

"Amy?" Fiske had asked. "You know the individual who has been holding Drew and Ed?"

"Yeah," Shego had smirked through her pain. "And so do you!"

Fiske was still coming to grips with the idea that his one time…paramour? Devotee? Had become that…being…that had overcome Shego. He chuckled to himself, mirthlessly and decided to avoid angering geniuses in the future, no matter their fields of endeavor. Instead, he concentrated upon the here and now. First, Shego's life was not in danger. Her enhanced healing would repair the blunt force trauma she had sustained, in a few days. In the meantime, she required a great deal of food and sleep. Yet it wasn't his lover's condition that had Montgomery Fiske agitated this morning. Two items were troubling him.

The first, and the least of his problems, was keeping hidden. Monty suspected that Shego was correct and that Amy would not alert the authorities, at least until she had a chance to cover up her own illegal activities. This did not, however, prevent Amy from acquiring the services of some…less than law-abiding individuals to search for him and Shego. Fiske had spent enough time around criminal organizations to realize that any organization capable of spending enough money, and International Manufacturing had a very great deal of money, could usually find who, or what they wanted. In addition, such…operatives would be far less restrained than official law enforcement. The fact that he and Shego had been able to track down the Lipskys indicated that International Manufacturing could track down Shego and him.

The second and more troubling issue was what International Manufacturing might be utilizing the Lipskys' talents to do. Shego had told him what Drakken had told her and Fiske did not know what action he should take. He was aware that at some point during his life he had lost his empathy with his fellow man. As such, he really didn't care if International Manufacturing took over the world, as long as he and Shego were free to continue their life. Therein lay his dilemma.

What kind of a world would be left for he and Shego, if Warrick Loward and Amy (Fiske refused to think of her as Warmonga) managed to seize control? Would there be international, criminal enterprises for them to associate with? Would a vindictive Amy, fueled by yesterday's confrontation, take advantage of her ruling status and hunt the two of them down? Fiske was faced with the real prospect that, in order to support his own self interest he may have to play the part of a hero.

Of course, what could he do? He and Shego were in no position to take down International Manufacturing and they could hardly call in any of the authorities. Even though he knew there was some form of secret lab at the administrative facility, the authorities would need some form of probable cause before they would investigate it. Montgomery Fiske doubted that any law enforcement agency would consider two wanted fugitives' report to be probable cause.

A rare grin crossed his features as he contemplated how such a story would sound. 'My partner and I followed a Morse code clue, transmitted out of a kidnapped parolee's body cavity, after she stuffed a tracking chip into his rectum. We tracked him to a respected conglomerate's facility, where we bluffed our way in, assaulted three guards and broke into a secured lab. After that, an oversized, green woman, who happens to be a reconstructed, short, dumpy woman, sent us running for our lives. Now, please ignore the fact that this corporation pumps millions of dollars into your local economy, listen to us and go barging in and look around.'

The grin faded from Fiske's face as he realized that simply looking at his situation, in a sarcastic manner, wasn't going to solve his dilemma. Should he do something and if so, what?

"Monty…?" Shego's quiet, pained call snapped him out of his thoughts. He sprinted to her side.

"I'm here," he informed her, kneeling next to the air mattress she was laying on.

"What time is it?" She asked.

"About six-thirty in the morning," Monty informed her. "You've managed to sleep for about four hours this time." He paused a moment, "this will sound like a foolish question, but how are you feeling?"

"Like Hell," she grimaced back. "Which is actually an improvement. Now it's my turn to ask a stupid question. Is there any sign of anybody chasing us?"

"No," Monty smiled, gently. "As you guessed, we would not be staying here if there were. I want to try to stay here, until this evening. I'll slip out, during the afternoon, and acquire another vehicle. We will use that vehicle to link up with our other, pre-arranged transportation. It won't be comfortable for you, but I think we will be best served by returning to Guatemala."

"Monty," She prompted again. "What are we going to do?"

"We will follow our plans," Fiske told her. "We will drive to the train station, take the train to Texas, cross the border then…"

"Not the question I was asking," somehow, Shego's pained murmur interrupted Fiske more effectively than a shout.

Fiske heaved a deep sigh, "I honestly don't know," he confessed. "If Amy's organization somehow comes to power, we will be in desperate straits. Whatever we do, you must be well and capable of action. Therefore, I suggest we return to Guatemala and decide our course of action while returning you to health."

"Thanks, Monty," Shego breathed. It was the first time she could recall actually thanking someone.

"Whatever for?" Monty asked.

"For pulling me out of there, when you could have just turned and ran," Shego explained. "For sticking with me, even though you could get away, easier, without me."

"You did the same for me, not long ago," Monty pointed out.

"It's not just a debt, and it's not just a partnership, is it?" Despite her injuries, Shego's eyes were very intent.

"No, it's not," Monty admitted, with a look of pride on his face.

"After I'm healed up and we deal with what Amy has become, we're going to have a long talk," Shego informed him. "A talk I gave up having back when I was a teen. It's gonna be awkward, but I'm looking forward to it."

"So am I," Fiske agreed.

* * *

Pain. That's what his world had become, just an ongoing burst of agony, interspersed with occasional bouts of harsh questions.

"Let's go over this again," Warmonga demanded of the Lipsky cousins. "The green hussy showed up, kidnapped Ed, shoved a tracking chip into his body cavity, then delivered him here?"

"Seriously, that's how it went down," Ed told her. "I was under some funky type of parole and she came along and trashed it, seriousliiiieeeee!" The shock collar interrupted Ed's tirade.

"This facility is shielded to prevent radio signals from getting out," Warmonga declared. "How did they find you?"

"I'm not sure," Drew began, only to be interrupted by his cousin's screams as Warmonga shocked him again.

"I will continue to shock him until you answer," the green giantess informed him.

"Fine, he told me what had happened and I figured out that he had a chip," Drew told her. "Will you please stop this while I give you your explanation?"

"If you make it quick," she replied, releasing her new control button.

Drew quickly outlined the remote modifications he had made to the chip, the receiver he had put on the electrical system, and his long days and nights of sending code, hoping that Shego would figure out what was going on.

"Where did the hussy get the chip?" Warmonga demanded.

"Probably from Henchco," Drakken told her.

"The little green slut never would have figured it out without Monty," Warmonga declared.

"Er…probably not," Drakken hoped that agreeing with her would put her in a better mood.

"I may have to deal with Jack," Warmonga mused, then glared at Drakken once again. "Next question; Team Possible recently took down The Mathter, at an abandoned resort in South Dakota. He claimed that he was trying to track down one of your facilities. What do you have there?"

"Nothing," Drew replied.

"The Mathter's no idiot," Warmonga snarled, activating Ed's collar once again. "He was on to something. What was he looking for." She had to shout to be heard over the big man's screams.

"Okay, I have a hidden facility a couple of miles away, shut off Ed's collar and I'll tell you."

"Not this time, Drew," Warmonga smirked. "You had your chance to cooperate and you blew it. I suggest you talk really fast."

"Fine, it's in an abandoned mine a couple of miles to the northwest of the resort," Drew spat out.

"A mine? Out in the middle of the prairie?" The green woman growled. "I'm no geologist, but I can't see any major mineral deposits there."

"It was a manganese mine," Drew hurriedly explained. "There are horizontal bands, which you can see in the river valley, where the soil is absolutely black with the mineral. The manganese is plentiful, but of very low quality. The mine was only active during the Second World War, when access to top quality ore was limited."

"Okay, Ed gets a temporary reprieve," Warmonga declared, releasing the button. The big blonde man slumped to the ground. "Now, what do you have there?"

"An equipment stockpile," Drakken admitted. "A small laboratory and a power repeater, suitable for use with my wireless power distribution network."

"Why didn't you tell the authorities about this facility?" Warmonga demanded, her thumb hovering over the button controlling Ed's collar.

"I wanted to keep it secret, in case I escaped," Drew told her. "When I was extradited, my plan was to reveal my secret assets, at widely spaced intervals, to keep myself alive for as long as possible."

"That's sufficient, for now," she informed him, tucking the control into a pouch on her belt. "Unfortunately, Ed's pain has just begun."

"Meh, why?" Drakken demanded. "I answered every question you asked."

"Because I can't trust you!" She roared. "If you had told me about Ed's chip, I would have let you disable it. Now, I have to remove it." She looked meaningfully around the lab. "I can make this facility serve as a crude, but functional operating room. You'd better hope, for your cousin's sake, that my hand-eye coordination is still good." She held up an immense hand, "of course, the incision I'll have to make, to reach in and grab the chip, is going to be bad enough."

* * *

"_This might not be the top of the world, but I think I can see it from here,"_ Kim thought, as she walked to school, ready to start another week. Her right arm was linked around Ron's left, holding the two together. They still had issues to deal with; Pump was still being distributed under their noses, the attack-press was still targeting Kim. Plus, Yori and Felix hadn't resolved their differences, but Kim felt better about things than she had in a long time.

First, her squad had placed second during Saturday's competition, placing higher than all of the squads that had beat them during the previous competition, two weeks ago. Clearly, Cindy and Beth were fitting themselves into the squad, merging into the solid team that had existed before Pump destroyed it. Kim couldn't keep a smirk off of her face; the expressions on the other squads' faces, when they saw how much Middleton had improved in two weeks had been priceless.

Secondly, Ron had done well at his tournament. Even though he remained a little miffed about losing such a close match in the semi-finals, he had rallied and come back to finish third. When you took into account the fact that this was only his second year of competitive wrestling, it was an outstanding accomplishment. Oscar had pinned his way to his second, individual championship and two other Middleton wrestlers had placed. The team finished seventh overall, the best finish that the Middleton Wrestling Team had ever produced.

Kim smiled wider, thinking of the 'Oscar and Cindy sitch' as she referred to it. Yesterday, Ron told her that Oscar had no sooner stepped off of the awards stand Saturday night, when several collegiate wrestling recruiters approached him. One of them had been from Colorado State. Oscar was very happy about this development. Not only did he have a very good chance of going to college with Cindy, Colorado State was reasonably close to Middleton.

"You doing okay, KP?" Ron asked, noticing that he had zoned out of the conversation.

"Sure," she squeezed his arm a little. "I'm still a little groggy after that killer brunch yesterday."

Ron had celebrated the end of wrestling season by putting together a massive, early afternoon meal. That was the problem with one of Ron's special meals; a week later, you were hungry again.

"Anyway, like I was saying," Ron took up his conversation, from before the interruption. "Those recruiters were already interested in Oscar after his match, but they really started drooling when they found out how good his grades were."

"Good for him," Kim smiled. "I really hope it works out for him. Cindy and him make such a good couple."

"I was thinking of something else," Ron continued. "Now that my season's over, I'm short an extracurric. If you need someone to help out the squad, you know, spot for the towers and tumbles, I'd be happy to help."

"That's sweet, Ron. I'll have to check with Mrs. J, but I'm sure she'll be cool with it. After all, you've spent enough time spotting while you were the mad dog, you'll be able to step right in."

The two continued the light-hearted banter all the way to school. However, they stopped once they walked inside the building. Ahead of them, Kim's locker was sealed shut with tape and a sign, which read 'DO NOT OPEN' was attached to it. Ron looked down another hall, towards his own locker. It was sealed and marked the same way. The two teens stared at each other for several moments until.

"Possible, Stoppable," Mr. Barkin's voice sounded its low rumble behind them. "My office, now."

Kim's heart dropped into her stomach as the two of them followed the big, vice-principal to his office. Outside, the teens noticed a couple of police cars pulling into the parking lot.

* * *

"Is he going to be alright?" Drakken demanded, jumping up from his chair in the secret lab's dining area.

"Of course," Warmonga snorted. "I'm not incompetent! I knew the chip's exact location, so it was a quick, easy operation. He'll be a little sore for a few days, but he'll make a full recovery." The giant woman glared at Dr. Drakken, "assuming of course, I allow him to recover."

"What do you mean?"

"The two of you have become liabilities, Drew. You know what that means. You've already compromised our operation. So, tell me, what benefits can we get from your continued breathing, and how will these benefits exceed the risks of keeping you?"

"You can't keep us here," Drew admitted. "No matter how good of a job you do covering up this incident, someone's going to get curious."

"True, now, why should we keep you alive?"

"Because we can still be useful!" Drakken insisted. "Have you thought out what comes after you take over the world? Sure, you've planned on the recovery and administration, but what about the resistance that will pop up? If you think taking over the world will be rough, try keeping it under control! Ed and I can help you, buy building and maintaining devices to keep the world in line, while keeping the casualties down."

"As a token of my honesty, I'll give you some more information," Drakken rushed on, seizing a pencil and scribbling on a notepad. "Here is the name and number for the property management firm, who's taking care of the mine's ownership issues. They can contact the rancher, who owns the land the mine's on, and arrange for a covert visit. Secondly, here's the access codes for the lock; you'll find it at the bottom of the mine. Finally, make sure that whomever you send to the mine wears high, thick boots."

"I'll give you one more chance, Drew, "Warmonga informed her former colleague. "If you can avoid causing me trouble, while still remaining useful, I'll keep you around. If not, you know what happens. In any case, you're correct that we can't keep you here. Pack up all of your things, you're going to be moving."

* * *

"Hey! I know our rights!" Ron snarled at the mirror. "You can't hold us without charging us and we don't have to talk until we have a lawyer present! I've put enough bad guys in here, and I've seen enough television shows, that I know the drill!"

Kim palmed her face at this last revelation. At first, she had been shocked, annoyed and indignant. Now she was getting embarrassed. She and Ron had no sooner reached Mr. Barkin's office than Officer Hobble arrived, telling them that they were going to the station. Kim, Ron and Mr. Barkin had all been shocked when two more officers arrived, cuffed the teens and led them out to waiting squad cars. Marla Agile was waiting in the parking lot.

"Miss Possible, is it true that you were selling pump in the high school?" The reporter asked, rushing towards the duo.

"No comment," Kim had growled.

"What about the rumors that the two of you use the drug, and it's a major contributor to your successes?" Officer Hobble intercepted her, not allowing her to come closer.

"No comment," Ron had grumbled.

The Middleton Police proved to be efficient, whisking the teens into the cars and off to the station. Curiously, there were no reporters waiting at City Hall, to get coverage of Team Possible under arrest. The two officers had simply led the teens to what appeared to be a conference room, removed their restraints, then left them alone. They had been here for perhaps fifteen minutes and Ron, for all of his ability to marinate when he wanted, was going stir crazy.

"Hey, you can't just leave us in here!" He yelled again. "We've got rights! I don't know which amendment says you can't do it, but this is unredeemable search and Caesar!"

"That's unreasonable search and seizure," Officer Hobble corrected the blonde, as the policeman walked into the room. "Now, how about we have a little talk about Pump?"

"We're not talking until we have our lawyer present," Kim informed him. "I really appreciate you breaking with proper procedure, by letting us stay in a room together, but we still want our lawyer to review our charges."

"Just what are we being charged with, anyway?" Ron asked.

"Nothing," Officer Hobble told the two teens, as he took a seat at the table. "That's why we haven't given you a chance to call an attorney and why we didn't mirandize you when we picked you up."

"Okay," Kim replied. "I assume you've come in here to tell us what's going on?"

"That I am, Miss Possible, but first, let me ask, didn't you find it a wee bit strange that only one reporter showed up at your school, when we picked you up?"

"Well, yeah," Kim muttered. "I mean, we're no power couple but I'd think that our arrest would be kind of a big deal."

"It would have," Officer Hobble agreed. "But you see, only one reporter seemed to have an inside line. Miss Possible, Mr. Stoppable, we've had a sting going on for a couple of weeks now, and our mole has finally gotten a break. The mole was supposed to plant some Pump on either your possessions or your person. She told her supplier that she had done so and we were waiting to see who would react to it. Since one reporter showed up, she has to have some sort of connection to this supply network."

"I take it Marla has been placed under arrest?" Kim asked.

"Not under arrest, in for questioning," Hobble corrected. "She's talking with her attorney and a prosecutor right now. We couldn't let you in on the action, since we wanted this to be a secret operation."

"Okay, I can understand not letting us in on the secret, but why tell us now?" Kim wondered. "Is there something you want us to do?"

"Of course Miss Possible," the officer told them. "Our mole is meeting with the supplier right now. Now, pretty soon the supplier is going to learn that he, or she, has been hoodwinked. There's a chance that the supplier uses the product and turn violent. Since the two of you have experience performing these takedowns, how would the two of you like to assist us with the arrest?"

"Let's see…" Kim mused. "We have a chance to eliminate Pump in the Tri-City area and help investigate some of the attack press. You better believe we're in!"

"I thought you might think so," the policeman smiled. "Now, if the two of ye will come with me, we'll load ye in an unmarked van for the trip. The payoff is set to happen in the park, near a tractor garage."

The two teens were quickly loaded into the anonymous vehicle, which pulled out and merged with traffic. The back, where Kim and Ron rode, didn't have windows, so they couldn't do anything, other than fret about what was about to happen, during the short trip. After a short time, the van stopped and Officer Hobble opened a small hatch, between the cab and the back, to let them know what was happening.

"We were a wee bit late in getting here," he informed the teens. "The supplier is meeting with the mole, in the garage, right now. Our mole has a wire, so we're getting all sorts of good conversation right now." Suddenly, the policeman stopped and tilted his head, as he listened to his earpiece.

"It seems the payoff's complete," he informed them. "The supplier is on her way out and we'll be able to take her down in a….Oh merciful heaven, we didn't tell the regular patrolling officers to steer clear! The supplier just spotted one of them and is running back to the garage! C'mon, our mole might be in trouble!"

The policeman jumped out of the passenger side door, while Kim and Ron threw open a side door and vaulted out behind him. They quickly spotted the garage and ran towards it. To one side, they could see a completely baffled officer, staring curiously at the building. As they approached, the door opened and a feminine figure, her face concealed by a hood, appeared in the doorway.

"So you think you have me, do you?" A…vaguely familiar voice declared. "Well, I have your freaky little snitch!" A slender hand emerged from the voluminous overcoat, flourishing a switchblade. "If you come anywhere near me I'll cut her into…WHOA!"

A slender hand reached out of the yanked the woman into the dark interior. Although Team Possible couldn't see the ensuing struggle, the dealer's voice provided an interesting narrative.

"Hey!"

"How'd you…"

"I'm going to need that…"

"Ow!"

"Not the face!"

"That chafes!"

"D'you know how much this coat cost?"

"You can't…Mrmph."

Kim slowed to a halt while Ron took the lead, preparing to negotiate. However, a familiar face appeared in the doorway.

"Yori…" Ron gasped.

"Indeed, Stoppable-san," she replied. "I attempted to tell the supplier that her situation was hopeless and that she should surrender to the authorities. I regret to say that I was unable to persuade her to accept a peaceful resolution and when she attempted to abduct me, I was forced to resort to violence."

"Is she injured?" Kim asked, rushing forward and into the building.

"I do not believe so," the Japanese girl informed the redhead, stepping to one side to let her inside the building. "I was able to disarm her before she was prepared for a physical confrontation and she is not a formidable combatant."

Kim, followed by Ron, stepped into the small building to see the dealer lying on the ground, hog-tied with her own long, luxurious coat. One of the sleeves was wrapped around her lower face, gagging her. Kim walked around to looker her full in the face. The redhead gasped when she recognized…

"Adrena Lynn?"

"I do not know this name." Yori confessed.

"She used to be a well-know television personality in America," Kim explained. "She did death-defying stunts on live television. That was before Ron exposed her as a fraud."

Kim was grateful that Yori had gagged the former stuntwoman. Judging by the expression in her eyes, the muffled shrieks would have taught Kim a whole new vocabulary if the sleeve hadn't been stuffed in her mouth. Kim looked up to see Ron fighting with a huge smirk.

"What is it?" She asked her boyfriend?

"KP, I can't say it, I just can't," he chortled. "It's just too corny."

"To what are you referring, Stoppable-san?" Yori asked.

"I can't," he squeaked. "I just can't."

"Just spit it out, Ron!" Kim demanded.

"Fine, you asked for it," Ron seemed to get some control over his breathing. He then stood straight and, in his best announcer's voice declared, "Adrena Lynn, former stuntwoman and now a drug dealer. What will she do next?"

* * *

"So it was all an act?" Kim asked. "I mean, your accepting attitude towards Pump?"

"Hobble-sama instructed me to declare that I did not despise the drug, so that the current dealer would approach me," Yori explained. The three teens were in the conference room Kim and Ron had occupied a short time ago, waiting for the policeman to give them a final debriefing before heading back to school. The Japanese girl's face grew downcast as she continued, "I also had to distance myself from my friends and from…Felix-kun, so that I would appear isolated and…a prime subject to both sell the poison and gain revenge upon my…former friends."

"What you're saying," Ron clarified, in a gentle voice. "Is that you were willing to risk friendships and your reputation to help the police break the distribution network."

"We owe you one," Kim told the girl that she had once considered something of a rival for Ron's affections. Of course, that was before she realized that she wanted Ron's affections. "Pump was being so the distraction to Ron and I. We have our athletics, academics and missions. Pump was really cutting into everything, including our personal lives. We both really appreciate what you have done."

"Then I may, as you say, call in the favor, Possible-san," Yori whispered, with downcast eyes. "I believe that my actions have cause Felix-kun to suffer a great deal. In order to accomplish my goal, I had to deceive him…use him. His suffering caused others to believe that we were, as you say, on the outs, and this encouraged them to see me as lonely and isolated."

The girl looked up and met Ron's eyes, "I never intended to hurt him, Stoppable-san, but my mission required me to take actions that saddened him. I regret to say that this may not be the last time. As do you and Possible-san, I have many claims upon my loyalty. It is my shame that I cannot make Felix-kun the center of my life. Should one of these other…entities…call upon me, I will be required to set him aside, until such time that I complete my other obligations."

"You and Possible-san have an advantage," she continued. "You have managed to face most of your obligations together. I fear that I do not have that recourse, with Felix-kun."

"Then you owe him as much honesty as you can give him," Ron told her. "He deserves to know that you have duties that come before being his girlfriend."

"But these obligations must remain secret," Yori reminded him. "I cannot describe these obligations to him."

"No, you can't," Ron agreed. "You can't tell him _about_ these obligations, but you can tell him that you may have…duties…that will take precedence, at least for a little bit, over him. He's been our friend for a long time, so he'll understand that you have secrets."

"You are, of course, correct," Yori admitted, bowing her head once again. "I shall tell Felix-kun that I cannot make him the…centerpiece…of my life. It was selfish of me to assume that I could, as you say, string him along, by not telling him that I have other obligations."

"Not selfish, Yori" Kim told her. "Human. Let's go see about getting you back together with your boyfriend."

* * *

Tuesday

Monique Jenkins was in heaven. Middleton high was an absolute hotbed of rumors and innuendo today and the fashion maven loved every second of it. While some, okay, most of the school considered her the unofficial gossip queen; that wasn't a very accurate description; the premiere social life detective would be a better description.

Monique loved to hear the latest news, do her best to separate fact from fiction, and then try to link the tidbits together and discover the big picture. She didn't always come up with some heart stopping truth but she didn't much care; the journey was more fun than the destination. Take the last two days:

First, the police picked up her two best friends yesterday morning. Some local, scandal reporter had heckled them with a couple of nasty questions in the parking lot. Kim and Ron had returned to class just before noon, in better moods than they had been in a long time. Yori, who had also disappeared during the morning, returned during the afternoon, but she appeared apprehensive. She was also a lot closer to Felix than she had been in weeks, even though they didn't seem as close as they had been a few weeks ago.

Secondly, the police, accompanied by guidance counselors, had picked up several more students this morning. Everything was kept fairly quiet but Kim and Ron were close by in each case. Since the rumor mill reported all of the affected students as suspected Pump users, and the police liked to had Team Possible close by during such arrests, Monique concluded that the police had somehow figured out just who, in Middleton High, was using Pump.

Third, Kim and Ron refused to talk about what happened on Monday. When she started her discrete probing (some would call it an interrogation) at lunch, Team Possible had clamed up like she did when her mother asked her for details about her dates with Mat. Yori had also become decidedly closed-mouthed. Conclusion, Kim, Ron and Yori were dealing with something that went beyond high school secret.

Monique added all three pieces of information together and came to the conclusion that Kim, Ron, Yori and the Middleton Police Department had teamed up to perform some action, targeted against Pump distribution. It appeared that all parties were satisfied, if not happy, with the results. Also, the situation wasn't completely resolved, otherwise Kim, Ron and Yori would be talking about it. Monique suspected that whatever had taken place had strained the Yori/Felix romance, but she couldn't be sure. Still, she was satisfied with her conclusions and was pretty sure that she would win the bet that she had with four other gossip connoisseurs. She checked her watch and headed towards the bus stop, unable to try to pry any more details out of Kim and Ron if she was going to make it to the mall in time to put in her late shift.

While Monique was working at Club Banana, two of her speculation subjects were having an earnest conversation at Felix's house.

"I wish that I could tell you everything, Felix-kun," Yori told her beau, after explaining as much as she could about the sting. "But I have commitments to others than yourself. I have entered into this relationship, with you, for my own happiness and you have made me very happy. However, I cannot be selfish and place that happiness above these commitments that I have made before meeting you."

For over a minute, silence reigned in the Renton household. Felix didn't meet his…girlfriend's?…gaze. He just sat, trying to come to grips with what she had told him. She watched him, tears starting to well in her eyes until…

"I knew that you weren't normal," Felix told her. "Ever since the make-up prom, when you fought those trained, attack-monkeys. I figured out, then, that you were something special, like Kim and Ron."

"There have been a lot of times that Kim and Ron haven't been able to tell me about things they've done and places they've been," he continued, now looking at Yori with sad eyes. "And I always took that in stride, since they deal with some really bad, bad guys. Ron's even told me, a few times, that Kim's learned things she couldn't tell him, and visa versa. So I kind of expected that you had a past that you would only tell me about if you were able to, and wanted to."

"The difference is, to the best of my knowledge, they've never gone off and just played each other, or me, the way you did." The hurt in Felix's voice and eyes were now evident, causing the tears that had been building in Yori's eyes to burst forth. "Was what you were doing so secret that you couldn't tell me that you were doing something? Couldn't you have just told me that we were going to fake a breakup, at least for awhile?"

"I…probably could have done so," the girl admitted. "I…just did not think of doing so. When Officer Hobble requested my help I thought of nothing but completing this honorable mission. I thought nothing of my own happiness and I also did not take your…feelings into account. I will not apologize for sacrificing my own happiness for an honorable goal but it was not honorable for me to sacrifice yours, without your knowledge."

"Yori, don't get me wrong," Felix pleaded. "I'm not so self centered that I place my dating life over eliminating Pump. I can understand that you have responsibilities and commitments greater than me. Heck, we're teenagers! We have school and family, just to name two, that always take outrank dating. With you, there are even more, secret, things that outrank me, and I can handle that."

Yori looked up, feeling more hopeful at Felix's last remark. However, the young man continued, "I'm no idiot, Yori. I'm probably going to be the class valedictorian and I've already earned a conditional acceptance to MIT, but these are academic things. I'm a lot more naïve when it comes to people."

"I've dated before," he continued, keeping his emotions out of his voice. "But I've never had a girlfriend before you, so I don't know if I'm handling this right. Still I have to ask you this, did you start dating me as some sort of cover, a way to keep you close to Kim and Ron?"

"No!" Yori snapped. "I accepted your first date request out of curiosity; I wanted to go on an American style date. After which, I realized that I enjoy being with you, and not simply as friends."

"Okay," Felix nodded. "Now I want to know if this is some sort of cultural thing. American teen couples stay date and stay together for different reasons. For some couples, it's a fun thing; they have fun with each other so they stay together with no plans of staying together very long. For some, it's the prestige; they want to be seen dating the top athlete, the best looking, the coolest or the richest. Then we get to my motivation." Here, Yori caught her breath at how vulnerable he looked. "I'm dating you to explore our compatibility. I want to see if we can…modify our lives to fit each other in. I'm not saying that we're going to be together forever but for right now, I'm not even looking at other girls."

"And I am not looking at other boys," Yori declared, with pride in her voice. "Felix-kun, the motivation you just described is mine! I truly want to see if we can include each other in our lives!"

"Yori, if you will just tell me when another commitment forces you away from me, I'll be able to handle it," here, Felix found himself looking at the floor again. "If you'll still have me."

"I will do so," she said, standing up, walking to her boyfriend and lifting his face up with a finger under his chin. "And I am honored and humbled that you still want me, after I hurt you so."

With that said, arms went around each other, tears were shed and comfort was given and received. There were still things left unsaid and an unknown future to face but for right now, for two teens, everything was right with the world.

* * *

"Be it ever so humble, and so forth," Monty remarked as they walked into their Guatemalan home, the nobleman supporting Shego. The mercenary had to smile at the remark, despite her pain.

"Just let me sit up in the kitchen," she told him, when he started to lead her to the bedroom. "I've done enough laying down the last couple of days." Soon she was seated at the table, a mug of the local coffee in front of her.

"So, what's the plan now?" She asked her partner.

"I believe I'm best served dealing with immediate concerns, at least right now," Fiske answered. "Our charges in the smuggling ring have probably gotten the idea that they can do what they will. I had best adjust that attitude."

Shego smirked at that one. Her plasma and enhanced strength had quickly intimidated both the smugglers' employees and rivals. Monty, however, with his accent, grammar, and interest in archeology, came across as some sort of schoolteacher. This made it all the more intimidating when he made an example of an obnoxious smuggler.

"Our next goal is, of course to get you back on your feet," he continued.

"No problem," she waved it off. "I've taken my beatings, over the years. Plenty of food, plenty of sleep, and I should be good in another week or so. Unless whatever Amy injected me with does something."

"That's troubling," Fiske admitted. "I've never known her to be mistaken, when it comes to creating sedatives, and other drugs. Yet, you feel no ill effects."

"It's kinda hard to tell," she quipped. "She sort of beat the living crap out of me, in addition to the needle stick but no, I don't feel anything. Maybe whatever she hit me with couldn't handle my body temperature, or maybe my healing fixed the damage as soon as it happened. I don't know."

"Very well," Fiske nodded. "Let's assume that we get you healed up. What do we do next? I have a suggestion, but it seems rather desperate."

"I think I know what you're thinking," Shego took a deep breathe. "It may be time for us to go to the authorities."

"But how do we do so without being incarcerated and ignored?" Fiske added.

"Well, we have a week or so to work it out," Shego reminded him.

"True. Very well, I had best get to the headquarters. The employees will be more off balance if I am waiting for them when they arrive."

As Fiske left to fulfil their illegal obligations, both he and Shego wondered which agency they could approach, and how, without being arrested, shot, or simply thrown in a loony bin.

* * *

Pete the cameraman sat at his favorite table, at his favorite working-mans' bar, and nursed his second beer. He had known, when he returned to Middleton, that he would eventually have to leave and that the circumstances were probably not going to be pleasant. Still, he had been doing well for himself and he didn't like the idea of that skinny little redhead schoolgirl sending him packing again. Fortunately, nobody seemed to pay much attention to the cameraman so he was leaving relatively scott-free.

"Pete?"

"It depends on who's asking," he answered the unseen voice that had just spoken from behind him. The voice's owner set a draft on the other side of the table and seated himself across from the melancholy cameraman.

"I'm Warren, I work for a local television station," the stranger introduced himself. "Do you have a few minutes?"

"I'm not what you'd call newsworthy," Pete forced humor into his voice. "And I'm not looking for work."

"Actually, I think you are between jobs at the moment," Warren leaned back and looked at the other man.

"Oh, why do you say that?"

"Since Adrena Lynn is currently being held without bail, pending her trial for selling Pump, and Marla is off the air, I don't think you have much to keep you occupied."

"Look, Warren, I'm really flattered that you've decided to let me in on the breaking news before anybody else, but I've got to get going," Pete stood up.

"I really doubt that very many people realize that Marla Agile's cameraman used to be Adrena Lynn's cameraman," Warren told him. "But I'm sure that the police would like to talk to you about it. You might also want to know that I've got nine and one dialed on my cell phone. One more button pressed and I'm giving the local police a hot tip."

"Okay, what do you want?" Pete asked, returning to his chair.

"First, you're going to listen to me give an apple-pie and baseball type of speech," Warren told him. "Then I'm going to make a suggestion. Where you go with that is up to you."

"You sort of have me by the 'nads," Pete replied. "So speak your piece."

"Okay, time for the 'welcome to Mayberry' speech," Warren took a pull on his glass and leaned back. "I'm a reporter, so I'm not supposed to get involved with the story, but I also live in this city. Now, this city is a long way from perfect, but it's a pretty good place to live. The kids walk to school without worrying about drive-bys or some gang mugging them for their shoes. I've left my car out of the garage, unlocked, more times than I can count and it's never been stolen. Bottom line up front, I like it here."

"Are we done with the baseball and apple-pie portion yet?"

"Almost," Warren smiled. "Now, as a citizen, of the Tri-City area, I want to keep my little corner of the world a pleasant place, so I take offense when someone brings in an outside, negative influence. Needless to say, I was pretty upset when Pump appeared in the schools. If that wasn't bad enough, Marla Agile mysteriously started to feed a lot of innuendo and misrepresented video clips to Rita Richards, right about the time that Pump started to make itself known. I'm an investigative reporter, so I started to look for a connection."

"Good for you," Pete drawled. "Do you think you're going to get a Peabody out of it?"

"No," Warren shook his head. "I work locally. Anyway, most bystanders, police, and other investigators don't pay too much attention to cameramen. I, on the other hand, used to be one. So it shouldn't be surprising that after yesterday, when the attack press happened to be at a secret Pump operation, I looked in places that the police didn't. I found the connection and the connection is you, Pete."

"Interesting theory," Pete's voice was calm, even though he had broken out in a sweat.

"Oh, I think the theory is going to become proven fact before too much longer," Warren informed him. "I have a source that assures me that the Middleton Police Department has an airtight case against Lynn. They have recordings, video clips and sworn testimony. She's been selling Pump, Pete, and she tried to frame Team Possible. Now, Marla just happened to hear about a nonexistent drug check that this same department performed at the local high school. She was the only one, which means that Lynn told her! Now, Agile is keeping her mouth shut but I don't think that she has a very stiff backbone, so she's going to start singing before too much longer and Pete, she's going to be singing about you."

"So what do you want?"

"First, you're going to tell me why you did it," Warren told him. "Then, we're going to come up with a way for you to talk to the police with a little damage to you as possible."

"Okay, I'm about due for a rant anyway," Pete sighed. He drained his glass, motioned for a refill, and started.

"Adrena and I had it good, back in the day. She would come up with some crazy, eye-catching stunt and we would come up with some way to fake it and sell the footage. Nobody was ever in any danger so nobody ever got hurt. We had plenty of money and the promise of making even more. Now, I'm going to sound like some cartoon about four teens and a dog but the truth of the matter is we ran across some meddling kids. Thanks to Possible, we got busted. Suddenly, there were no more paying gigs, no more sponsors, and no more endorsements. Now, Lynn didn't take this very well so she kidnapped Possible's boyfriend and tried to make her fail in her attempt to save him. Needless to say, broadcasting yourself kidnapping and attempting to murder a kid isn't a good move. She went to the slammer, but she got out early on good behavior. The problem was that she didn't have much in the way of marketable job skills so we decided to make some money and get even with Possible at the same time."

"So you started to sell Pump in Upperton," Warren predicted.

"That wasn't the plan," Pete corrected him. "Our first plan was to move here, find some young, inexperienced reporter with stars in her eyes, and link her to Richards. Kim would get egg on her face and we'd make some money. Somehow, someone figured that Lynn would want to get back at Possible and contacted us. Lynn was out at the time, so I became the contact."

"They were the ones who supplied the stuff?"

"Yep, I don't know who they are, but I became sort of the mastermind. I figured it would be best since Lynn still doesn't think too clearly when she gets miffed."

"Agreed, but what about the attack-press?"

"I decided to do both," Pete shrugged. "I supplied Lynn with the drug and let her handle it from there. In the meantime, I managed to wave some dollars and fame in front of little Miss Agile, and she snapped at it like a hungry trout. When Adrena told me that she had gotten one of the sidekick's friends to first deal, then agree to plant some of the stuff on Team Possible, I figured that I'd go for the big score. We'd have our revenge on Possible, we'd have plenty of cash, and Agile would be set for life as well. I guess we lost."

"So this was all revenge because they exposed her as a fraud?" Warren asked. "Okay, Lynn was busted, but why didn't you move on? Couldn't you do anything other than follow her around and film the faked stunts?"

"It was quick, easy money," Pete shrugged. "Don't look at me like that! It's not like you don't do the same thing, following Possible around!"

"Team Possible tangles with bad guys and helps people," Warren replied, stiffly.

"Yeah, maybe so, but don't tell me that Possible isn't in it for the fame! Why does she wear her hair loose like that, just asking for it to get caught in some machinery or have some bad guy use it as a handhold? Why does she wear those hot little crop tops? If she was all about the missions, she'd be braiding that hair and wearing some sort of fatigues. No, she want's to be noticed."

"To be honest, I think she's in it for the fun," Warren admitted. "But anyway, now let's figure out what we do about you."

"What's there to figure out?" Pete asked. "You're going to rat me out to the cops, and they'll hang a whole lot of hurt on me."

"Not necessarily," Warren corrected him.

"Then what?"

"I think the first thing we should do is get really, really drunk," Warren suggested. "We can drink and tell each other about our adventures until closing time. Then, I'll catch a ride home and put you up in my guestroom. Tomorrow, after we get done being sick, we'll call my attorney and tell him your story. He'll go with you to the Police Station, when you turn yourself in. That way, you'll get the best deal possible."

"That's my best option, isn't it?" Pete grumped.

"The best I can see," Warren admitted.

"Then I guess I have the next round," Pete declared, motioning to the bartender. "Did I ever tell you about my first boss, and how he sent me to cover a story about some spelunkers finding a new cave passage? Well, it turns out that I'm claustrophobic and…"

* * *

Thursday:

"Ugh, this might be an economical mode of transportation, but I'm never going to use it willingly," Dr. Drakken whined, while trying to stretch out a kink in his back.

"Seriously," his cousin agreed. "That trip was rank!"

The Lipsky cousins were standing in a laboratory/assembly facility, at an unknown location. It was apparently underground but Drakken couldn't tell any more about their new home. Behind them sat the shipping crate, in which they had been confined for the last twelve hours.

"_Sure, they sent us via air delivery_," Drakken thought to himself. "_But this is no way to treat a scientific genius."_

"Okay Lipskys," a burly guard addressed them, stepping forward. "You've got four hours to get yourselves straitened up before you're going to be fabricating walkers. Your room and a bathroom are down that hall. We've got a couple of cots set up, in case you want a quick nap."

"Cots?" Ed demanded. "That tanks, dude, seriously! We're like, top notch builder dudes! Don't we get beds?"

"You used to," the guard informed them. "Before you tried your little stunt. Warmonga's given me your schedule, and she's given me the go-ahead to use any persuasion I need." At this last statement, the guard produced a control, identical to Warmonga's shock collar control.

"Let's not be unpleasant, Ed," Drakken insisted, rather hastily. "I'm sure that with a great deal of hard, honest work, we'll return to our hostess's good graces. By the way, where is she?"

"She had something to take care of, before coming here," was the guard's only reply.

* * *

Explosions, yells, and even shrieks were something that Jack Hench had gotten used to at work. You didn't spend four years as the chairman of the world's largest supervillain supplier without having a few…interesting…experiences. What he wasn't used to was the building shaking, the lights flickering or the length of time that these disturbances continued. He hired good security teams, capable of intimidating even the most determined techno-villain. Concerned, the supplier got up from his desk and stepped out of his office. What he saw made him stare in shock.

The outer office was in turmoil; most of the staff were either absent or fleeing. Most of his security detail was down, not moving. In the center of the office, where the remaining security detail was converging while the remaining staff was fleeing, towered a nine-foot, green-hued woman.

"I will not be stopped," she roared. "Leave while you still can!" The few remaining staff members took her advice but the security detail, to Jack's pride and sorrow, didn't. It was like watching a pack of mice trying to gang up on a wolf.

Moment's later, the remaining guards were down and Jack Hench hoped that they were only incapacitated. He knew he should flee, escape while the assailant was catching her breath after decimating an elite security force, but he couldn't. Jack Hench had fought, scraped and clawed his way to success and it just wasn't in him to turn and run. He powered up his personal force field, activated his shocker watch and closed in.

The mystery assailant snarled when the watch's extender hit her and discharged, but she didn't go down. In fact, she only seemed to be irritated. She grabbed the wire and pulled Jack in close. She then attempted to grab the man, but his force field held her at bay. Undaunted, she set her feet and strained her arms, trying to force her hands through the field.

Jack was stunned when he realized that his projector was overheating, unable to maintain the field against the force the woman was exerting. This was incredible! This woman must have brute strength to rival Hego! Suddenly, the projector broke down and she seized him.

"I'm really sorry Jack," she murmured, effortlessly lifting him from the ground. He lashed out with his foot, catching her in the stomach, but it was like kicking a brick wall.

"You were always good to me," she continued, not even acknowledging his blow. "You extended me credit when I couldn't afford the splicing tanks. You even let me pay off my debts by loaning you my creations. I wish I didn't have to do this, I wish that you hadn't sold Shego that tracking chip, but there's no place in the new world for an organization like Henchco."

"A-Amy?" He gasped, trying to speak through a closing windpipe. "Is it really you?"

"Amy Hall no longer exists!" The woman roared. "I am Warmonga, the first of the Lowardians and I say that Henchco is finished!"

She punctuated her statement by hurling Jack back towards his office. The supplier crashed through the wall; flew over his desk and through the window. His mind was barely able to register what had just happened, and curse his vanity for placing his new office on the eighteenth floor.

* * *

An SUV and a pickup stopped on a South Dakota ridge, next to an abandoned mine. Five men climbed out of the vehicles and four of them strapped on tool belts. The fifth man, the only one who knew that International Manufacturing was paying them, led the way to the shaft. He walked inside, relying on the late-winter sunlight for the first several strides. According to his employer, there weren't any traps, just a security seal at the back of the shaft. Soon, he had left the sun's illumination and reached for his light. When he shone the light at the floor, his eyes flew wide and he fled, screaming, out of the shaft.

The rest of the party was unable to calm their leader, but they had been well instructed. They entered the shaft, showing only minor apprehension at what had sent him fleeing, and made their way to the end of the shaft. They found the keypad, hidden in a false support, and keyed in the code they had been given. A secret door opened on one side, revealing a sizable room.

In this room, they found a device they had been told was some sort of power receiving and transfer module. Following their instructions, they activated the device. In another room, they found several modules, capable of receiving the power relayed by the transfer module. The four men spent the rest of the day carrying these modules out of the mineshaft, loading them onto the pickup, and shuttling them to a semi, which was waiting on the nearest, hard-surfaced road. By the time they had finished this task and resealed the secret room, their foreman had calmed enough to take charge of the operation, once again.

They would spend the next couple of days moving the modules to warehouses in Pierre, Fort Thompson, Pickstown, and Yankton; each city near a Missouri River dam. None of them, not even the leader, understood their further instructions but the money was good, so they didn't worry about it. In case of a global power outage, they were to recover these modules and connect them to each of the dams' hydroelectric output transformer. This would re-energize the power grid in this part of the country.

Back in the secret room, an automated system reacted to the access code they had punched into the keypad. Four hours after they left, this system disconnected an electromagnetic shield over a chamber, hidden under the floor. While this room remained hidden, it was no longer shielded from electromagnetic signals.

* * *

_A/N: I have to apologize, since I'm a little late posting this last one. I hope it was worth the wait._

_Big thanks to everyone who has hung with me this long. Again, I promise that the end is coming soon. _

_As always, my fondest thanks go to Joe Stoppinghem, for his excellent beta efforts._

_Until my next update, best wishes to everyone;_

_daccu65_


	47. The Calm Before the Storm

Chapter 47: The Calm Before the Storm

Monday

She was on the top of the world again, and it made her incredibly nervous. Just a week ago, she had been walking to school, on Ron's arm, reflecting that several things were looking up, when they had been called to Mr. Barkin's Office and led away from school, in handcuffs. Now, things were looking even better so she wondered if the letdown would be even worse.

First of all, Yori and Felix were clearly a couple again. The two of them must have had a pretty deep conversation, since they were almost as close as they were before Yori had taken the undercover assignment with the Middleton Police Department. The Japanese girl had clearly underestimated how much she could hurt her boyfriend with her sudden silence and isolation. Felix, for his part, seemed ready to forgive. While the two had some issues to work out, they were clearly working on them. It was too bad that Officer Hobble had asked the teens to keep Yori's full involvement secret, since the whole sitch was prime 'discuss with Monique' fodder.

Secondly, Yori's work had severely curtailed Pump distribution. Not only that, Warren had somehow talked to whomever had been supplying Lynn. This unknown individual provided some vital information and, if the report that Wade had 'come across' could be believed, the DEA had raided the only known Pump production facility in the country. Now, Kim only had to worry about cheerleading competitions, academics, college applications and supervillains.

Third, the recent burst of Shego/Fiske sightings, in Michigan, had dried up. Kim didn't know if the sightings were valid. If the criminal couple had actually been there, they hadn't caused any trouble. Now, supervillain activity had dropped to almost nothing.

Finally, the squad was coming together better than ever. While Bonnie and Jess had greater athletic talent than Cindy and Beth, respectively, there was something to be said about synergy. Cindy was much easier to get along with than Bonnie had been, so practices were more efficient with Bonnie out of the picture. Finally, Ron was helping the team, spotting for their towers and tumbles. Since the girls were comfortable working out around the former mad dog, the squad continued to improve.

"Uh, okay, is this thing on?" Mr. Barkin's voice sounded over the intercom system, just as the teens reached Kim's locker.

"I wonder if he'll remember that he has a 250 watt amplifier in the all-call," Ron Reiger muttered, from his own locker. "So he doesn't have to…"

"Alright people, this is Vice Principal Barkin speaking. LISTEN UP!"

"Shout," Reiger finished. "I guess not."

"The following students will report to my office, rather than homeroom," Mr. Barkin continued, as faculty and students struggled to clear their ears. "Cindy Grouse, Tara King, Kim Possible, Ron Stoppable and Oscar Williamsen. Now, GET TO CLASS!"

"I've gotta sneak into the office and damp down that amp," Reiger mumbled, as the dazed, Middleton High student body stumbled off to start the day.

The only person more nervous than a high school student reporting to a school official is a high school student reporting to a school official with her boyfriend. Kim Possible, the same girl who had faced down rampaging, giant robots and traded punches with supervillains, was a quivering wreck by the time Mr. Barkin ushered the five students into his office.

"I won't waste time," the big man told them, taking his seat. "Bonnie Rockwaller will be returning to this school, starting tomorrow. Miss King, I know that you are already aware of this, since she will be living with you."

"I knew she was coming back," Tara whispered. "But I don't know why she's living with us."

"Miss Rockwaller's counselors have decided that her sisters contribute to an unhelpful, stressful environment in the Rockwaller household," Mr. Barking explained. "This atmosphere may inhibit her ability to overcome her addiction, which brings me to you other four."

"Miss Rockwaller has been known to have issues with you four," Mr. Barkin declared, turning his glare on the other four teens. "The police were very insistent that I make sure that she won't be placed under undue stress. Do I make myself clear?"

"Mr. Barkin?" Oscar asked. "Do I understand this correctly? Bonnie spent most of the school year snarking on the four of us, so now that she needs kid gloves, we're responsible?"

"You understand perfectly."

"Hey, that's not fair!" Cindy practically exploded. "Do you know how many put downs and insults she poured on him? Do you know the kind of rumors she started about us? So whom do you come down on? Us!"

"Deep six that attitude, Grouse," Barkin rumbled in a quiet, low, yet threatening voice. "I don't care who started it or who said what. It ends, now."

"How, Mr. Barkin?" Kim asked.

"How what, Possible?"

"How did she avoid prison, or juvenile hall? She was caught dealing, red handed."

"She's claiming that she was coerced and threatened. Apparently, her supplier was that felon who kidnapped Flagg a couple of years ago."

"It would be a valid claim," Ron cut in. "Even if it isn't true, it would give her a reasonable excuse, at least from a legal standpoint. Then she's innocent until proven guilty, which means she gets to continue her education."

"Stoppable seems to grasp the concept," Barkin informed his charges. "Rockwaller is an innocent girl. Now, there will be no acts of revenge. There will be no rumors, no heckling and taunting, no messages left on her locker and," here, he gave Ron a hard look. "No stink-bombs _in_ her locker. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Mr. Barkin," the five teens chorused.

"Very well, you have two minutes to get to homeroom. MOVE OUT!"

* * *

"I-I really don't know the proper etiquette for this situation," Drakken stammered, as Warmonga towered over him. "W-would it be impolite to ask about your trip?"

"I wish to speak to you about your facility in the mine," Warmonga informed Drakken, in a stern voice.

"W-which mine?" The blue man stammered. "O-oh, t-the manganese mine, of course."

"You have more than one secret facility hidden in a mine?"

"Um…er…eh…yes?"

"Why didn't you inform me of these resources?" Warmonga leaned forward, forcing Drakken to shuffle a step back.

"Er…well…because you didn't ask?"

For several, heart-stopping moments, Warmonga glared at Drakken. Then, suddenly, she burst out laughing.

"I have to give you that one, Drew. I only asked about the manganese mine, and you did warn me to make sure my workers wore thick, leather boots."

"I take it they told you why?" Drakken asked, with an ingratiating grin.

"Indeed, you must have known that the area's rattlesnake population would find it a prime, winter hibernation lair."

"I hope nobody got bitten."

"No, the reptiles were too lethargic, with the cold, to bite. The team leader is a rather arrogant sort. He stormed into the mine without even turning on his light. Several strides in, he felt the floor shift under him, turned on his light and found himself ankle-deep in snakes. He tore out of the mine faster than Ed running from a crewcut specialist."

"Hey, nobody messes with the mullet!" Ed declared, from where he had been working.

"Silence," Warmonga snapped at the blonde man. "Anyway, he apparently spent the rest of the afternoon perched on a car hood, making odd, chirping sounds. However, the facility was exactly as you described it and we have it on line."

"Thank goodness," Drakken exclaimed. "Now another region will be able to recover efficiently, after the take-over."

"You really feel guilty about this, don't you?" Warmonga's voice had no hint of intimidation, only curiosity.

"Yes," Drakken snapped. I tried this once before and only killed a lot of people. I wish you luck, since my life depends on your success, but I really wish you wouldn't do this."

"I'll make you a deal, Drew," she offered. "Finish your final modifications to the walkers' communications systems. We have a reactor, twice the size of the one you had at Bueno Nacho, deep under this laboratory. If you can bring it up to full efficiency, I'll let you deploy satellite power transfer stations, using our spare lifting bodies. You'll have a complete, global power distribution network, to help the world recover."

"It's something, at least," Drakken grumbled.

"One other thing, Drew."

"Yes?"

"You will give me a full disclosure of all of your hidden assets, before the end of the day."

"Of course," Drakken answered, realizing that he had gotten lucky with her reaction towards the last hidden lair.

"Now, I have to take care of some business, here," Warmonga declared, spinning on a heel and stalking out of the room.

* * *

He was only vaguely aware that his eyes were now open, his vision of the surrounding room distorted by the liquid that encased him. He wondered if he should be concerned about being underwater, but by the time he realized he should be, he also realized that he was breathing comfortably. He tried to focus his sluggish thoughts, to figure out why he was here.

Come to think of it, where was here?

Come to think of it, who was he?

A door opened, admitting several people into his tank's room. One of the people, a woman, towered over her companions. He seemed to remember her but couldn't quite come up with a name. The people examined some read outs on a computer console before consulting with each other. They must have reached an agreement, since they all nodded before scattering to various points in the room. The large woman approached his container.

He knew that everything would be fine; he always hired the very best and compensated them for quality work.

How did he know that?

He decided not to worry, he just knew. It must be time to remove him from the tank, since Amy was manipulating the same controls that she had used to immerse him…how long ago?

Ah, so the large woman's name was Amy! She was the genetics expert who had cured him, given him the use of his own body. She was in the process of giving him an enhanced body, like hers, so that he could take his rightful place as the ruler of this world that had scorned him; had scorned both of them.

Even as a robot arm lifted him from the tank, Warrick Loward's memories came rushing back to him. Amy, assisted by one of her team, removed his mask and the various IV needles. Amy used a penlight to check his eyes while the assistant checked his reflexes. After several minutes of rather undignified poking and prodding, the assistant and the rest of the team left the two superhumans alone in the lab.

"How do you feel?" Amy asked him.

"Strange," he admitted.

"It will take some time to accustom yourself to this new body," she assured him. "But once you do, you won't be disappointed! I personally defeated the little green hussy! I'm sure that you will enjoy your new capabilities."

"So all of the enhancements seem to be functional, Amy?"

"I have taken the name Warmonga," the green woman informed him, somewhat stiffly.

"Very well," Warrick nodded. "What do you suggest?"

"Let's try a few steps," she suggested. "You should be quite steady by tonight. Tomorrow, we'll start briefings on our progress. You'll find that our plans are actually ahead of schedule."

* * *

Tuesday

The bell rang, signaling the end of the day's last morning class. Hundreds of students, growing teenagers, swarmed out of their classrooms with one thought on their minds: lunch. Bonnie Rockwaller, however, was the last student out of her classroom. Her behavior, as she stepped into the hallway, was more appropriate to a soldier walking into a known minefield than a healthy teenager, who had just been released for forty-five minutes, should act.

She had known that today would be rough, but the reality was even worse than she had prepared herself to face. She had been ready to face scorn and derision; she had prepared vicious, verbal comebacks to the nasty attacks she knew had to be out there. What she hadn't been ready for was the complete indifference everyone was showing her. Sure, Tara had been friendly and helpful, she always was, but nobody else even acknowledged her presence. Even Cindy and The Import, the two she had spent so much time belittling (propping her own status by doing so) didn't have anything to say. Earlier, when she had deliberately stood in Oscar's way, he had simply stepped around her, without a word.

Her friends from before the incident were pretending that they didn't know her. She could understand that, her posse was based on social standing and she was now tainted. Associating with her would tarnish their own reputations. As for the girls on the squad, Tara had explained it last night

"The rest of the girls would be ready to forgive you," the blonde had informed her. "If it had only been you. Pretty much everyone sees you as having taken Jessica down with you and they can't forgive that."

"Tara you realize that I did…" but Bonnie's confession was cut off by Tara's upraised hand.

"Don't say anything," the blonde girl had told her, with surprising firmness. "What's done is done and what's important is what you do next."

So now Bonnie made her slow, listless way to the school cafeteria, the center of high school social interaction, where she would see how truly isolated she had become. The brunette girl picked up a tray and collected a small amount of food, not trusting her nervous stomach to hold very much. Stepping away from the serving line, she only glanced at her usual table.

That table was pretty much out of the question, being an incredibly strict display of the school's social hierarchy. Open seats at this table were harder to find than at the Superbowl. Another girl had seized the opening that Bonnie's arrest had provided, while several of the regulars looked like they were vying for the coveted, position as apex of the food chain.

She noted that Tara was sitting with Kim, Ron, Oscar, Cindy, Monique, Felix and Yori. The blonde girl was blushing furiously, but didn't seem upset. While there was a spare space at their oversized table, Bonnie didn't consider trying to claim it. Past their table, a group of (ugh!) freshmen had a half-full table. Bonnie headed in that direction, passing by Tara's group to get there. She couldn't help herself; she just had to listen in as Oscar described what had Tara so embarrassed.

"So, when it came time to pick out the community service credit, Tara chose the veterinarian," Oscar was explaining. "Since she wants to go into medicine, she thought taking care of sick animals would be good practice. I took it, since I work at Randall's Stables and I'm a wrestler, so I'm used to dealing with animals."

A short snicker greeted Oscar's quip as he continued, "anyway, the vet had just showed us how to give small dogs injections. The next person to come in has a Pomeranian that had Diabetes. The vet decided that we were going to give the little guy his insulin shot."

"It was such a cute little dog," Tara piped in.

"Well, the dog didn't know us, so it was already on edge, plus it had been to the vet enough that it knew what the syringe meant. The vet was already giggling at us when we decided that I would hold the dog still while Tara gave it the shot. The dog didn't like me bear-hugging it and this particular dog reacted to the stress by farting."

The rest of the table grimaced in sympathy for their friends' olfactory experience.

"So we have this wiggling dog that I can't keep perfectly still and our eyes are watering. The inevitable happened," Oscar concluded.

"You don't mean," Cindy gasped, covering her mouth with her hand.

"I got an injection of canine insulin, in the left forearm," her boyfriend confirmed.

"I'm so sorry," Tara pleaded, her face turning even redder.

"What did the vet say?" Monique asked. "Did she need to do anything."

"It was no big," Oscar declared, smiling at Tara. "Tara didn't squeeze the syringe, so I didn't get the full dose. The vet said that even a full dose, for a four-pound Pomeranian, wouldn't cause me any problems."

"You insulated my boyfriend?" Cindy demanded, with a false-angry tone.

"Bad pun," Ron commented.

"I said I was sorry!" Tara protested.

"So, no side effects?" Kim asked her friend.

"None whatsoever," Oscar declared. Then, in an impressive display of his flexibility, he scratched his left ear with his left foot.

"Stop that!" Tara pleaded.

It was too much for Bonnie; she snorted a burst of laughter, catching the attention of everyone at the table. For several long, uncomfortable seconds, they looked at the fallen social queen. Then, Ron Stoppable did the unthinkable.

He stood up and asked Bonnie if she would like to join them. After a moment, Oscar repeated the offer.

* * *

Wednesday

Warrick Loward thrilled at the way his arms could effortlessly support his weight, allowing him to do countless push-ups. When Am…no Warmonga, had cured him of his disease, he had enjoyed the strain and pain of rehabilitating his new, functional body. Now, he reveled at how fit his body was already. Warmonga's assistant, who had come up with the in-tank muscle exercise routine, would be seeing a couple additional zeros on his next paycheck.

"In addition to the supplementary lifting bodies, we have fabricated hundreds more. All told, we will be able to deploy over three thousand walkers, as well as the wireless power distribution network. Our experts predict a week of intense combat, followed by a month of mopping up remaining pockets of significant resistance. There may be years, even decades of low intensity, gorilla conflict but once the populace sees that we are rebuilding the world, better than it was, such fighters will lose popular support."

"I am still troubled by Drakken's attempted betrayal," Warrick admitted, as he continued his exercises. He was also delighted that his already capable mind had become so much sharper.

"I know Drew," Warmonga declared. "Once he's been intimidated, he stays intimidated. That little green hussy of his never really accomplished anything for him, but she had him cowed into keeping her around for years. Our teams will be exploring, and inventorying, his secret facilities in the next couple of days."

"I bow to your experience with him," Warrick told her. "Perhaps you can tell me why he has such an affinity for abandoned mines."

"Mines prove excellent for the particular work Drew prefers," she answered. "His experiments tend to be very noisy, at least as far as electromagnetic noise is concerned. The thick layer of stone and earth around the open spaces absorb such emissions, which keeps curious ears from being able to locate them. In addition to this, many mines can be found in sparsely populated areas, where he can conduct his business in private."

"It seems to make sense," Warrick nodded. The enhanced man sprang lightly to his feet, then fell on his butt.

"You will become more agile with time and activity," his companion assured him. "You're not clumsy, merely not accustomed to your size and strength. I had the same difficulties at first."

Warrick nodded, sheepishly climbing to his feet. Warmonga had prepared a section of his facility for him to get used to his new body. All breakables had been removed and the structure had been reinforced. She had also obtained the services of a martial arts instructor; such training would improve his balance and coordination.

"Describe your struggle with Shego again," he requested, taking a seat.

"She was more skilled, but it didn't make any difference," Warmonga scoffed. She provided a blow-by-blow account of her fight.

"Your triumph was actually a compliment to your intellect," Warrick declared. "While she honed her physical skills, you honed your knowledge until you could nullify her physical superiority."

"But there's room for improvement," Warmonga added. "That's part of the reason I hired the martial arts instructor. If we can couple some real skill with our enhanced bodies, we will become unstoppable."

"Brilliant," Warrick gushed. "I was truly wise to hire you, while I was still confined to the wheelchair."

"This concludes the day's briefings," she informed him. "But there was one other thing I wanted to test."

"What's that?" He asked, intrigued by the way she was sidling towards him.

"I want to completely test out my new form," she told him, pulling his face close to hers. "I spent many years being the dumpy, ignored genius. I want the full experience of being a healthy, fit woman."

Warrick Loward couldn't come up with a good reason to not indulge.

It was, perhaps, fortunate for the staff's sanity that his personal quarters were both soundproofed and reinforced.

* * *

Thursday:

"I don't get it," Wade complained. Kim and Ron took notice of that statement. When Wade couldn't understand something, it was complicated indeed.

"The DEA has been kind enough to give me access to the evidence they seized when they raided the Pump lab," he continued. "From all projections, it appears that whomever was making the stuff was losing money! The investigators can't replicate the process, a real genius developed it and all of the people at the lab made a clean getaway, but they can tell that it was expensive and time consuming."

"You can't figure out how they produced it?" Ron asked his younger friend, in amazement.

"It's biochemistry," Wade explained. "While I'm more a computers, electronics and mechanical guy. I've only looked into biochemistry as light reading, when I couldn't sleep. I've only gotten to an undergraduate level and Pump production is in the realm of PhDs with time, experience and facilities."

"Why do I wind up feeling inferior every time I ask him a question?" Ron asked the ceiling.

"The important thing," Wade continued, with a smile for Ron. "Is that whomever was making Pump wasn't making it for the money."

"What other reasons could there be?" Kim mused.

"Could they have been trying to get a bunch of people addicted cheaply," Ron suggested. "Then, you know, crank up the price and make a killing?"

"It's possible," Wade said, with a trouble voice. "But not probable. If whomever was making it was going that route, I think it would have had a wider distribution network. Anyway, you guys have to get to class, so I'll keep working on it."

"Please and thank you," Kim told him, as a way of saying goodbye.

Still, Kim was feeling nervous. Pump had been all but eliminated, her squad was doing well, Felix and Yori were back together, with a vengeance, and Bonnie was actually being nice. Something had to go wrong to counter all the good things.

* * *

At several points across the globe, small teams of men entered abandoned mines. Most of the men on these teams were unaware that they were being paid, ultimately, by International Manufacturing. In all cases, they entered the mines, punched codes into hidden keypads, and revealed secret facilities.

Most of these facilities were simple living spaces, single rooms that held food, clothing, money and other items that would help a criminal on the run. A few others were warehouses, holding components for exotic; some would say crackpot, inventions. Regardless, the teams inventoried the items. Some, under orders from their secret employer, removed the items. In all cases, the teams resealed the secret facilities when they left.

Two of the teams were quite unaware that their presence had caused maintenance systems to drop the electromagnetic shields from hidden compartments. Much like the manganese in South Dakota, the insides of these compartments were now open to receive signals.

* * *

"Kim, could I talk to you for a moment?"

Kim was more than surprised. This was the first time that Bonnie had ever actually asked to talk to her, when asking to talk to her. Usually, Bonnie delivered that question with a tone of voice that said "I've decided to compliment you with my presence, you'd better be willing to talk."

"Sure Bonnie, what is it?"

"It, uh, sort of involves Cindy, as well."

Since the squad was just breaking up after practice, waving Cindy down wasn't any problem. Kim frowned a little bit, since Bonnie had attended the last two workouts. The former squad member hadn't suited up or even approached the other girls; she had simply sat in the bleachers, scribbling in a notebook. Kim suspected that she and Cindy were about to catch some scathing comments.

"What's up Kim…and _Bonnie_," Cindy had said the last name with a decided chill.

"I've…needed to talk to both of you," Bonnie's statement had a deferential tone that was very out of phase with her reputation. "I've been really harshing on you, putting down your boyfriends."

"THAT'S an understatement," Cindy snarled.

"I know that this apology is way…inadequate…for the way I've been acting but I'm going to do it anyway," Bonnie continued, flinching at Cindy's comment. "I'm really sorry for the way I've put you down for dating them. I'm really, really relieved that you didn't break up with them because of me."

"Why, Bonnie?" Cindy demanded. "Why did you have such a problem with me dating Oscar?"

"I really didn't," Bonnie admitted. "It was a status kind of thing. The more I put you down, the more I looked like I was on the top of the heap."

"And now that you've lost everything, you're willing to apologize?" Cindy finished. "That's not much of an apology."

"I know," Bonnie sniffled a little. "But I have to try. As badly as I've treated Oscar and Ron, they've been the nicest to me since I've been back." This was true; Bonnie had sat with them at lunch the last two days.

"Do you realize that Mr. Barkin told us to be nice to you?" Cindy asked the former social queen.

"Tara told me," Bonnie answered, her voice trembling a little. "And that got me thinking about how people always acted around me. I realized that Ron didn't have to invite me to sit with you, when nobody else wanted anything to do with me. I realized just how much your boyfriends don't care about popularity and status. The kicker was Oscar's story yesterday."

"About when Tara accidentally stuck him with the needle?" Kim asked.

"Yes, then, when he scratched his ear with his foot…" Bonnie started to explain.

"Hey!" Cindy interrupted. "If this is going to be some snarky comment about his flexibility and how we're…"

"NO! NOT THAT!" Bonnie interrupted, with a faint blush showing on her face. "I just realized how much he…both of them…are willing to be the butt of the joke, just as long as everyone has fun. They were kidding Tara, but they weren't going too far with it."

"Meaning?" Cindy prompted. Kim was willing to give her friend the chance to grill her rival.

"Meaning I realized how wrong I was about you guys. Here, I was trying to hook up with the most popular guy, or the cutest guy, or the richest guy, while you two were looking to hook up with the right guy." The tall brunette paused for a moment, "are they always like that?"

"Like what?" Cindy asked.

"Goofs," Bonnie replied. "Always making jokes and having fun."

"Usually," Cindy informed her.

"I've got a lot of growing up to do, don't I?" Bonnie asked the two.

"Yeah, but we're teens, so we're supposed to have a lot of growing up to do." Somehow, Cindy's statement seemed to accept Bonnie's apology.

"Okay, thanks," Bonnie wiped away a tear. "Kim," she continued. "I've been taking some notes on the routines, what do you think?"

Kim took the notebook and was surprised to see that the comments were polite and helpful. Somehow, as she was reading the comments and suggestions, Kim realized that a lot of her problems with Bonnie were over.

The next week proved to be the best time Kim had had in high school. Bonnie, the source of so much of her high school aggravation, had changed a great deal. They weren't friends; they had spent too many years as bitter rivals for everything to change in less than a week, but they weren't butting heads all of the time, either. Bonnie's attempt to take a shortcut had backfired, leaving her questioning her motivation for taking Pump in the first place. Being first ostracized by her posse, then reluctantly accepted by Kim's group of friends, forced her to take a hard look at her life. In addition, she was no longer being heckled and belittled by her older sisters. As a result, the queen B had lost a great deal of her need to put others in their place.

This wasn't to say that Bonnie had become nice. She was still a little…standoffish…but she didn't go out of her way to belittle everyone around her. She made no effort to rejoin the squad, since she was terribly out of shape and it was too late to learn the latest revisions. Instead, she sat in the bleachers, watched the workouts and made notes. Her comments and suggestions were actually more helpful than critical, and honed the squad even further. That Saturday, while Kim had the early shift at Club Banana, she had shown up and had actually asked for advice from Kim and Monique. After the former queen left the store, Kim and Monique spent the rest of their shift discussing her change of attitude. The girls came to the conclusion that while it was a shame that Bonnie had to go through the entire Pump situation, the change looked good on her.

Kim was rather distracted, since the squad had another competition scheduled for the weekend after next. If they could place in the top four, they would qualify for the national competition. Everyone was excited.

The villains seemed to be keeping a low profile. After an unknown group staged an attack on Henchco, and killed Jack Hench, the high profile, technology-driven villains were keeping quiet. Global Justice had sent a team to oversee the investigation, which puzzled Wade.

"Global Justice's purpose is to combat international criminal organizations," he had reminded Kim and Ron. "Henchco is a somewhat legal organization and the crime took place in the U.S. This is clearly the domain of local, state and national law enforcement agencies. Dr. Director won't comment on why her organization has gotten involved."

Kim and Ron had attended Jack's funeral and were surprised to see both Will Du and Dr. Director attending, as well. After the service, Dr. Director left quickly, while Will Du remained behind. Kim took the opportunity to ask him why GJ had sent official representatives.

"Why are you and Ron here?" He asked her, in response.

"I might not have agreed with him, but I still wanted to pay my respects." Kim had replied.

"It's much the same with Global Justice," he told her. "Officially, we are opposed to some of his actions, but we always seemed to get along with him."

Kim didn't have much time to consider the Henchco/Global Justice sitch, as academics and cheerleading demanded a great deal of her attention. The next week seemed to fly by smoothly.

* * *

"We're so jealous," Tim told Felix.

"Do you think you can put in a good word for us?" Jim added.

The tweebs, as well as the rest of Oscar's friends, were at Felix's house, attending a party in honor of his upcoming mini-internship with International Manufacturing. The soon-to-be valedictorian would leave in the morning.

"I don't think a good word from a teenaged intern is going to carry much weight," Felix told his young friends. "But I'll do what I can."

"Thanks," Jim gushed.

"They're getting into rockets," Tim added. "We'd fit right in."

"As long as you don't blow anything up," Kim told them. "I don't think that they'll be as forgiving as the 'rents when you vaporize the room."

"But Kim," Tim protested.

"We'd have a proper assembly plant," Jim told her.

"So we wouldn't blow things up," they concluded, together.

"Or you might make bigger rockets and bigger explosions," Felix informed them. "Let's get you two through high school first."

"Awwww…" the two began to complain, only to have Felix head it off.

"Ron and Rufus are up in my room," he told them. "They've got a pre-release version of Zombie Mayhem, When Accountants Attack, set up."

"You mean the one where you have to tell the difference between undead, flesh eating monsters and office workers who've been in cubicles for eight hours?" The tweebs couldn't contain their excitement when Felix nodded. "Wicked!!!" Both twins exclaimed, and were quickly off to do some zombie bashing.

"You and Ron are really good with them," Kim complimented the boy who was, technically, her academic rival. "And in case I haven't said it, congratulations."

"No big," Felix shrugged his shoulders. "Ron and I were both that age, not that long ago, and thanks."

"I am most happy for Felix-kun," Yori told Kim, approaching the two. "But I find myself, selfishly, saddened at the prospect of being separated for the next two weeks."

"I'm not exactly looking forward to it, myself," Felix added, reaching out and taking Yori's hand. "But if it's the worst we're ever going to go through…" he left the statement hanging.

"I remember when Ron went to Wannaweep for a whole summer," Kim murmured. "He was my best friend. Well, he still is but that's all he was back then. I really, really missed him that summer."

"How would you view the prospect of a two-week separation now, Possible-san?"

"It would tank," Kim admitted.

"Fortunately, we have the advantage of modern communications," Yori declared. "I have explained to Felix-kun," this was accompanied by a hard glare at the boy, "that I shall send and expect frequent emails."

Kim wandered off to mingle with the other guests, letting Yori grill her boyfriend. As the evening wore on, Ron, Felix and Rufus found themselves in Felix's room, rushing through a virtual office building, bashing undead cubicle occupants.

"So you're cool about leaving?" Ron asked his friend.

"Yeah, I'm far enough ahead in my classes that this won't be a problem."

"That's not the only thing I was talking about."

"I'm cool with Yori," Felix assured him. "I'm glad we put things back together this week. That makes it a lot easier to leave. I've got a favor to ask of you."

"Just ask, you know I'm good," Ron grimaced. "At least I'm a lot better at keeping promises than playing this game. Stupid controller! I didn't mean to decapitate the mailboy!"

"Okay," Felix chuckled. "But I'm being serious here. I may…drop out of sight…for awhile. I don't want you to worry. If that happens, I want you to tell everyone that I'm good, okay?"

"Drop out of…" Ron stammered. "Felix, what are you talking about!"

"There's more to this trip than just a pre-internship. Please, don't ask me any more. Just know that if I vanish, it's all part of the plan. I'll still be back when I'm supposed to."

"But what…"

"Ron, please," Felix pleaded. "This is very important to me! Try to calm things down if anybody gets excited."

"IF anybody gets excited?" Ron demanded. "What about your mother? What about Yori? Have you told either of them?"

"No, but I've made…other arrangements. Please Ron, trust me."

"Okay, fine," Ron conceded. "But if anything sets off my weirdar, I'm spilling my guts about this conversation."

"Fair enough," Felix nodded. "Now, I'm going to show you what paper shredder can do to an undead middle manager."

"Eeeeewwww!" Both Ron and Rufus gasped, in a sort of horrified admiration.

* * *

The next morning Yori and Mrs. Renton took Felix to the airport. The goodbye between Felix and his mother was rather tearful, as Mrs. Renton hadn't been separated from her son for this long, ever. Still, she was forced to smile when Yori said her goodbye, in a manner that was sure to make the young man look forward to his return.

Felix boarded his connecting flight to Denver but once at this major hub, he deviated from the itinerary he had given his mother. Instead of boarding a flight to Detroit, he boarded a flight to Honolulu, then a flight to Auckland. From there, he boarded first another commercial, airline flight then a private aircraft. It was a thoroughly exhausted Felix Renton who arrived at the classified, International Manufacturing medical facility. The staff ushered him straight to his sleeping quarters, so that he could be well rested before starting his treatment. None of them noticed that a large, blonde-haired man saw the boy as he passed through a fabrication facility.

* * *

_A/N I know I've been promising that I'll finish soon. I'm thinking four more chapters. Thanks for keeping with me this long and please stick with me to the end. It's been a fun ride for me._

_As always, my fondest thanks go to Joe Stoppinghem, for his excellent Beta work._

_Until my next update, best wishes;_

_daccu65_


	48. To Find Felix

Chapter 48: To Find Felix

"I'm telling you cuz, they gotta get me outta here and they gotta get me outta here now, seriously!" Ed folded his arms and leaned back against his workstation, his expression one of righteous determination.

"And just why do you need to be relocated?" Drakken asked his cousin.

"It's Wheels, seriously!" Ed declared. Seeing his cousin's uncomprehending look, he explained, "That kid with the seriously tricked out chair!"

"Ah, the high school teenaged student," Drakken recalled. "I believe his name is Mr. Renton. I don't see how his presence requires you to leave."

"He's got a restraining order against me, seriously. If the cops find out that I'm within two-hundred yards of him, I'm in serious trouble!"

Drakken spent several long moments just staring slack jawed, at his cousin. Finally…

"Are you serious?" Drakken asked him.

"Seriously!"

"You're seriously serious?"

"Seriously, seriously serious," Ed assured him. "Seriously."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously!"

"Ed, I think that your restraining order is the least of your worries," Drakken declared. "Besides, you're being held against your will. If there is a Colorado Department of Corrections after our hosts make their move, I'm sure they'll take this into account."

"Seriously?" Ed seemed almost eager for confirmation.

"Seriously," Drakken assured him. "Besides, do you really comprehend our situation? Our hosts aren't going to provide you with another home just because of the law. Of course, if you want another dose of the collar, just ask Warmonga the next time you see her."

"She _**would**_ just zap me, wouldn't she?" Ed mused. Then, "y'know cuz, I wonder what they have wheels here for anyway, seriously."

"I don't know," Drakken cupped his chin and considered the matter, happy to have something to divert his mind from his current situation.

"Maybe they captured him and are gonna put him to work, just like us," Ed suggested. "I mean, the kid's got some serious know-how when it comes to mechanics and horsepower, seriously."

"Perhaps," Drakken mused. "But it's too late to modify the walkers now, they're already assembled. Were they forcing him along the route he was taking?"

"Eh?"

"Was he struggling or upset," Drakken clarified. "You know, did it appear that he had been captured, like we have been."

"No," Ed informed his cousin, after a moment of thought.

"Perhaps they're bringing him in to become a valued employee, or minion, or whatever they will call their underlings, once they seize control," Drew thought, out loud. "No, that can't be it. If that were the case, they'd just grab him after the struggle is all over."

Suddenly, the blue scientist's eyes flew wide. "That's it!" He declared. "Remember, back in the old, secret prison lab? Mr. Sunshine had us watch that article about International Manufacturing's island facility. Mr. Loward showed up on camera and told the reporters how he became able to walk, once again. He also said that he was converting a section of his island facility to a medical center, where others could undergo the same treatment that had. They're going to cure Mr. Renton! That's why the boy's here and that tells us where we are! ED! We're on an island in the South Pacific!"

"Amp down cuz, seriously. What good does that do us?"

"The first step to busting out is to know where you are," Drakken informed the big man. "Let's get back to work. Maybe we can use this to our advantage."

While the Lipsky cousins were discussing Felix Renton's presence, the boy in question floated serenely inside of a tank. Unaware of his surroundings, his mind rested while his body restructured itself according to his genetic ideal. Thus, he was not aware that two large, green-tinted individuals were contemplating his peaceful form.

"I almost envy him," Warrick told his companion. "He is, and will be, completely unaware of the turmoil that's about to erupt. He has gone to sleep and will wake up to greet a new world."

"Are you having second thoughts?" Warmonga asked her mate.

"No, this world needs us to take over. Too many political leaders consider their nations to be their own treasury and ego-boost. By taking over, we will eliminate the corruption, conflict and competition that harms so much of this world. Under our rule, the human race will have a single direction. Young Mr. Renton here has the potential to do great things, in this new order."

"We could enhance him at this time," Warmonga suggested. "He would wake up not only whole, but greater than he ever thought he could be."

"No," Warrick shook his head. "The transformation shall be our gift for those who serve us well. Mr. Renton may very well take our form, some day, but he must first earn the gift, then accept it of his own, free will. We, and those we deem worthy, will rule this planet in our new forms; the intellectual elite directing the efforts of all others."

"A wise and ambitious vision, my love."

"And one that will become reality, very soon," he frowned. "It's a pity that your distraction collapsed, but it served its purpose. I must say that it was brilliant."

"Child's play," Warmonga accepted the compliment with grace. "I developed the drug, then chose the distributors. I knew that Lynn would want to get back at Possible, so I attempted to contact her. I wound up speaking to her old cameraman, who did a better job than she would have." Warmonga released a short, rumbling laugh, "this cameraman came up with the idea of combining the drug with the vindictive press. He almost disgraced Possible to the point where she would have quit being a hero."

"No matter," Warrick dismissed the situation with a shrug of his shoulders. "None of the so-called hero groups can stop us now. We will never know if we needed the distraction that this drug, which people dubbed Pump, provided. It was merely a wise precaution. As for Lynn, she will adapt to the new, world order, or be crushed. As for Kim Possible, she too will either adapt to our rule, or be crushed. It is my wish that she accepts the better world we will create, those such as her and Team Go could become useful enforcers for us."

"Only time will tell," Warmonga commented.

"And _**our**_ time is soon to begin," Warrick added.

* * *

"Okay, Kim, I really think you've got it, but here's a few flaws I noticed," Bonnie told the redhead, as she left her vantagepoint. The squad had just finished its Monday rehearsal. While the first several minutes had been spent shaking off the weekend rust, Kim thought the last run had been very well. Both Bonnie and Ron met with her to discuss observations.

"Okay, most of this is really minor," Bonnie informed her, pulling out the digital camera. "So it might sound like I'm being a nitpicker."

"But that's what the judges will be," Kim added.

Bonnie smiled; she actually smiled, before going over her critique. "So, during this formation, Liz wasn't smiling. Also, either Jim or Tim, I can't tell them apart even without the costumes, was about a half-step late. Crystal needs to get her foot up just a little more during this kick…"

Ron decided to leave the two girls to discuss the issue; Bonnie was a much better judge than he was and since she had returned to school, Ron wasn't nervous about leaving her and Kim unsupervised. Instead, he took a seat on the bleachers and pulled out his history book. Even after Bonnie and Kim finished their discussion, Kim would need to hit the showers before they walked home. He figured he could finish about three-quarters of his history homework before Kim was ready to leave.

Ron idly noticed when the two girls finished their conversation, and Kim left for the dressing room. He didn't stop studying when Oscar showed up, after helping with the Kids Wrestling Program. Ron and his friend knew the score; Oscar wouldn't be insulted because Ron studies, rather than talking and Ron wouldn't be insulted that Oscar didn't come over to greet him, and interrupt his studying. Ron did, however, pay closer attention when Bonnie approached the boy.

Trying to be discrete, he watched and listened as Bonnie stood right in front of Oscar and apologized for her previous behavior. At first, Oscar remained tense, not really ready to accept the apology and just let everything go. After almost two minutes, he relaxed and accepted her apology. He actually pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket for Bonnie to wipe her tears away. Soon, the two joined Ron where, in an effort to act a little like Oscar and Ron, Bonnie told them about how Junior's Christmas gifts had driven her off the deep end.

"It was the birds that did it," she told the two boys. "At the end of the seventh day, I had seven swans, six geese, four songbirds, three chickens, two doves and this game bird. Oh, and I had six goose eggs, as well." At this point, Kim and Cindy returned from the dressing room and listened in with rapt interest.

"I didn't know what to do," Bonnie continued. "The poor things couldn't handle the cold and we couldn't keep them in the house; I tried before the geese showed up and the whole house smelled like a chicken coup. I kept them in the garage and what they did to my mom's car wasn't very nice. What was worse is that she drives a convertible and she left the top down. Not to mention I really don't know how to take care of birds. I bought some of the big bags of birdseed, but a little math told me I couldn't feed all these birds for very much longer."

"Why didn't you give them away," Cindy asked, with none of the defensiveness she had become used to showing around Bonnie.

"Status," Bonnie spat out, bitterly. "These were gifts from an incredibly rich, handsome Euro-guy. They were something I could sort of hang over my sisters. Connie and Lonnie couldn't make any really snarky comments, since any cutting remarks would always lead back to the fact that my boyfriend was hotter and richer than either of theirs'."

"There was really only one answer," Oscar suggested. Ron suddenly realized what his friend was about to suggest, so he joined in to say, "Poultry," at the same time.

The three girls looked at the two of them, blank faced, for a moment before….

"Eeeww," they chimed, in three-part harmony.

"Sure," Ron continued. "Swans must taste a little like geese, so you would have had thirteen big family dinners right there. You could have kept the songbirds."

"The three French hens would have made for another three decent dinners," Oscar took up the suggestion. "Now, two doves don't even make a good meal for one person, but you could combine them with the partridge and have a halfway decent brunch."

Beep beep be-beep.

The Kimmunicator rescued the girls from any need to form a reply.

"What's the sitch, Wade?" Kim asked. "And please tell me that it has nothing with birds."

"Ohhhhhkay," Wade replied. "This has nothing to do with birds, but it has everything to do with Felix."

"WHAT!" The assembled teens demanded.

"He's missing," Wade explained, his expression very serious. "Mrs. Renton would like you to meet her, at her home, ASAP."

"We're on our way!" Kim declared.

"We're all on our way!" Oscar added, jumping to his feet.

"No!" Bonnie snapped. "Kim and Ron are the experts. Let them and the proper authorities handle this. They'll tell us what's going on. The last thing Mrs. Renton needs is all of us barging in there."

Cindy and Oscar both looked ready to argue for a moment before realizing that she was right. Kim and Ron took their leave of their friends, ran out the gym's front door, and jumped into the ride Wade had arranged. Soon, they were at the Renton house, where Yori was waiting with Mrs. Renton.

* * *

"Ron, Kim, thank you for coming," the middle-aged robotics engineer was working hard to keep her composure. "I've already called the police and the police are contacting the FBI. It's just that I-I-I…FELIX IS MY ONLY CHILD! I WANT EVERYONE I CAN GET TO HELP LOOK FOR HIM!" Here, the woman broke down into sobs. Yori quickly wrapped an arm around her and seated her on the couch.

"He's our friend," Ron said, simply. "Of course we want to help."

"Thank you," Mrs. Renton sniffled. "I suppose you'll want the entire story?"

"Please," Kim said, forgoing her usual 'please and thank you' while she sat next to the woman, opposite Yori. "Anything might help."

"Okay," Mrs. Renton regained her composure and re-told her story. "Felix left for his internship yesterday morning, as planed. He didn't call, but he emailed me, letting me know that he was fine and that his trip was going according to plan. Late last night, he reported that his final flight was running behind and that he would probably arrive at his destination late and tired. I received another email this morning, stating that he had arrived, was starting his internship, and that I shouldn't worry. However, I haven't received any word since then. The International Manufacturing facility he is supposed to be at is in an earlier time zone, so he should be off work. I called them, and they say that he isn't there."

"Did you get all that, Wade?" Kim asked the Kimmunicator.

"Uh, Kim, you didn't have the Kimmunicator activated," Wade pointed out.

"I know, but did that keep you from listening in?" Kim demanded.

"Uh, no, actually," Wade admitted.

"So…" Kim prompted.

"I'm reconstructing Felix's trip," Wade reported. "He told me his itinerary, so I should be able to hack into the airport security and…got him! I'm running security camera footage from when he arrived at DIA. Okay, he's leaving the concourse and…wait a minute! He isn't heading towards his connecting flight to Detroit! Maybe he's getting something to eat…no! He's heading towards another concourse altogether!"

"Did somebody kidnap him!" Mrs. Renton demanded.

"No, nobody's with him and he doesn't appear to be in any sort of distress," Wade reported. "Tell you guys what, why don't the rest of you go over your communications with him, while I do my job and track his movements? This could take me some time."

"Good idea, Wade," Kim informed him. "You rock!"

"Did he say anything to you, Yori?" Ron asked.

"He did so," the Japanese girl informed the blonde boy. "I received similar emails, informing me of the progress he was making. However, before he left, he told me that when he returned, he would be a better boyfriend."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kim asked.

"I assumed that he meant that his future would be more secure," Yori answered.

"I don't know," Ron murmured, then froze under three females' combined glare.

"What do you know?" Mrs. Renton sounded almost desperate.

"I'm about to ask some strange questions," Ron told the three. "I'm trying to piece some things together. Also, I made a promise to Felix, and I'm trying to find out enough to break the promise."

"What are you talking about?" Kim demanded.

"Humor me," Ron told her, then faced the Japanese girl. "Yori, did Felix ever talk to you about how you might get along if he wasn't…disabled?"

"Yes," the ninja answered. "I always assured him that it made no significant difference to me, that I had given my heart to the soul within the flesh. He sometimes said that he felt I was denying myself certain experiences, because I had chosen to be with him."

"What did you say to that?" Kim asked.

"You must know that my…etiquette…is not the same as that of the typical Japanese girl," Yori informed them. "There is no shame, at least for me, in partaking in certain adult activities. When Felix-kun asked me if such contact was important to me, I thought that he was suggesting, in an endearingly shy manner, that we should indulge. It was then that I found out that he couldn't join with me."

"Did he ever suggest that he may be able to, someday?" Ron asked her.

"He asked if I would prefer if her were able," Yori told him. "I told him that it would be my honor, and my joy, to join with him but being with him was more important to me."

"Okay, I think that we can say that Felix had a strong desire to do something about his handicap," Ron stated.

"Is there a point to all of this?" Mrs. Renton demanded.

"Actually, yes ma'am," Ron assured her. "I take my promises seriously, and Felix had told me that he might drop out of sight, during his mini-internship. I promised to try to calm anyone down _**unless**_ my weirdar went off. The fact that he wanted to do something about his handicap and he's gone missing told me that it was okay to break my promise."

"So what can we figure out?" Kim asked.

"I have another piece of information," Ron told the three females. "During the Winter Formal, he told me that he had heard about a cure for his condition."

Three sets of female eyes flew open wide.

"He said that it was experimental and he didn't know how many people had undergone the treatment. He told me that he met a guy who had been worse off than him and that he could now walk."

"It was shortly after this event that he asked me if I thought less of him, because he could not join with me," Yori chimed in.

"Do you think he might have gone off somewhere to undergo this treatment?" Mrs. Renton asked, "while using his mini-internship as a cover?"

"It's possible," Kim admitted. "But we need to dig a little more."

"This is pretty flimsy evidence," Mrs. Renton admitted. "I don't think the authorities can act on our brainstorming."

"Ron and I aren't authorities," Kim informed her. "If we can come up with his probable destination, we can call in favors and check things out."

"I've got an update," Wade's voice sounded from the Kimmunicator. "Felix got on a Honolulu-bound flight, instead of flying to Detroit. I've got to find out when his flight landed and at which gate it arrived. Then, I'll hack into the security camera recordings and find out where he went."

"Good man, Wade," Kim commented. "Okay, what else do we know about this treatment?"

"It was shortly after that that IM announced their solution to the ICBM sitch," Ron informed her. "Warrick Loward showed up on camera, and there was a lot of talking about the fact that he could walk and talk."

"And Felix met with him, personally, before that," Kim finished the thought. "Do you think that Warrick Loward is the man Felix was talking about, at the Winter Formal?"

"He fits the bill, KP," Ron pointed out.

"During Mr. Loward's announcement about the ICBM issue," Yori chimed in. "He explained that he had recently undergone an experimental treatment, which both saved his life and gave him unassisted mobility. He also said that he had an experimental facility, located upon the same island he was using to launch his mining robots. He stated that he intended to treat others at this facility."

"I think we have something here!" Kim exclaimed.

"But that island is outside of the United States' jurisdiction," Mrs. Renton sobbed. "If Felix is there, and he wasn't abducted, what can I do."

"That's where we come in," Kim told her friend's mother.

"Kim, can I make a suggestion?" Wade interrupted.

"Always," Kim assured him.

"Why don't you and Ron head home and get ready for a major mission," he offered. "Let me do my job and track Felix's movements. We already know that he's heading in the general direction of that island. In the meantime, I'll start calling in favors to get the two of you there."

"Ahem," sounded an annoyed squeak, from Ron's pocket.

"Sorry, Rufus," Wade apologized. "The three of you there. Don't worry Mrs. Renton, we're almost as concerned for him as you are."

"Thank you, all of you," Mrs. Renton sobbed.

The teens agreed that Yori would stay with Mrs. Renton while Kim and Ron went home to prepare for what they considered their most important mission ever. Saving the world was one thing, saving a friend was on an entirely higher level.

* * *

Ron found it very difficult to sleep that night. It seemed so sick and wrong to eat dinner and do homework, knowing that his best male friend may be in mortal danger. Also, there was the possibility that nothing was wrong. Because of this, and the highly personal nature of their discussion, he didn't talk to his 'rents about what might be going on with Felix. Instead of sleeping, Ron spent most of the night in meditation, trying to find his inner harmony. Finally, it was time to 'wake up' and get ready for school.

When he arrived at KP's house, the thing that he had been both dreading, and hoping for, occurred. Wade called and asked to brief the two of them, privately.

"Okay, I tracked Felix's route," the obviously tired boy reported. He went on to describe Felix's travels across the pacific. "I can't say for sure that he went to the island, but he was heading in that direction before he left commercial transportation. After that, there were no security systems hack into and observe him."

"It's enough for me to want to look at the island," Ron told him. "What do you say, KP, think it's a wild goose chase?"

"So not," Kim replied. "Wade, can you set up a ride?"

"Already on it," the youngster assured her. "But you might not like the ride."

"Oh, man!" Ron whined. "Not the all-mime cruise ship again! I never thought that peace and quiet could become so annoying."

"No, but it might be worse," Wade corrected him, with a smile. "I've been in contact with Global Justice."

"Dr. Director isn't so bad," Kim informed her technical support man.

"Not Dr. Director," Wade corrected her. "She's giving testimony at the U.N."

"You can't mean…" Kim whined.

"Will Du," Wade confirmed. "I guess you'll have to decide if putting up with him is worth rescuing a friend."

"That's a real low blow, Wade." Ron grumped.

"We're on our way," Kim informed him.

"I have a ride set to drop you off at Mrs. Renton's," Wade told them. "A hoverjet will pick you up there. I thought it would be a good idea to have Mrs. Renton actually see you heading off to look for Felix."

"You rock, Wade."

Team Possible soon found themselves with Mrs. Renton and Yori again. Both the scientist and the ninja appeared relieved that Wade had dug up the lead. Soon after arriving at Mrs. Renton's home, Kim and Ron heard the sound of an oncoming hoverjet. Yori and Mrs. Renton walked outside to see them board. As the strange aircraft rose into the sky, Mrs. Renton returned to her home. "I certainly hope they can find Felix, Yori," she said, then looked around, confused. "Yori?" Where had she gone?

* * *

Kim and Ron were confused when they arrived at the Global Justice Hangar and found it filled with a score of agents, with Will Du at their head.

"Kim, Ron," he greeted them. "We have a mission that we need you to perform."

"It's going to have to wait," Ron informed him. "One of our friends is missing."

"It can't wait," Du insisted. GJ's top agent held up his hands, silencing Ron as he continued. "And it happens to be on the island you want to visit."

Kim and Ron stared at Will, who looked back with an ill-concealed smirk. "Okay, we misjudged you," Kim told the agent. "What kind of mission are we talking about and why are all the agents here?"

"The mission will take you right to where Mr. Lode thinks Mr. Renton is located," Global Justice's top agent told her, ushering the teens towards an exit.

"And what about all the agents here?" Ron asked.

"I think they're here because of me," Shego quipped, stepping out of the door Du was leading Team Possible towards. "Long time, no see pumpkin. I hear you and the sidekick are still going hot and heavy."

Kim didn't stop to think, didn't question why Shego would allow herself to be surrounded by Global Justice agents. Confronted by her most hated rival, she reacted.

"Ron! Head on, like we've drilled!" She snapped. Ron didn't question the command. The two teens had worked out that Kim was in charge, in the field. They had also spent some of their workout time developing drills, in case the super-powered, green mercenary reappeared. The blonde boy brought his arm up, morphing the Lotus Blade, which had been in wrist-grapple form, into a large shield. Kim tucked in behind him as he charged the mercenary.

"I shoulda known," Shego snarled, shocked by the shield's sudden appearance but not allowing her surprise to slow her. A few of her plasma bolts would vaporize the shield, then she could knock some sense into the teenyboppers. Unfortunately, her first two bolts just bounced off of the shield.

Noting that the Global Justice agents were scattering, seeking cover from her deflected blasts, she cranked her plasma to its full strength, the same strength that could carve her initials into solid stone. The two teens were getting close when Shego unleashed two more bursts, only to see them bounce off, as well.

Over the years, Shego had encountered a few substances that could withstand her plasma. Most such substances had been specifically designed to withstand such stress. Without fail, such substances were bulky and/or rare and expensive. Most military combat vehicles could withstand her plasma, at least for a short time. In addition, Drakken had come up with a complicated, expensive method of making cloth resistant. Granted, such cloth tended to disintegrate after a few weeks but Drakken _**had**_ figured something out. What had the brat-pack come up with?

No matter, Kimmie and her little pet were on top of her! Shego crouched slightly, caught the upper edge of the oncoming shield, then curled and went to her back as the buffoon kept charging. Shego executed a picture-perfect backwards roll, sending Ron crashing through the door behind her. She sprang lightly to her feet, with a very smug grin on her face, until Kim's fist caught her right on the mouth.

Shego wasn't down, but she was sent staggering against the wall. Bracing her back against the wall, she managed to block the flurry of blows the redhead launched her way. A few got through her defense, making her angry more that they damaged her. She was vaguely aware that Du was shouting something as she started her own offensive against the irritating cheerleader.

Ron's landing would have been much better if the door he had just flown through wasn't closed at the time. Still, he managed a somewhat graceful roll, bleeding off most of his momentum, before coming to a halt on one knee. He flexed the shoulder that had impacted the door, finding that it was sore, but functional. He quickly spun and ran back the way he had come, intent on helping Kim. He had only taken two strides when an arm wrapped around his neck.

"Not so fast, Ronald," Mongomery Fiske's voice chided him.

Before Ron could react to this latest attack, Fiske leapt completely upon his back, catching the boy in a carotid artery choke. Fiske's long legs wrapped around Ron's waist, barely missing catching one of his arms. Ron pried at his nemesis's arms and thrashed his body, but was unable to dislodge either the hold or the man. His vision was going dark when he morphed the Lotus Blade into a short-bladed dagger and stabbed Fiske's thigh.

Fiske released the boy, with a shriek of pain. Ron had to lean against a wall for a few seconds, to regain his balance, before locating Fiske again. The man had just regained his feet.

"Now Ronald, don't do anything rash," he said, clenching his wound with one hand while holding his other hand towards the boy, in a warding gesture. Ron strode forward, swatted Fiske's blocking hand away with one swipe and driving his other fist into the man's gut. He had morphed the Lotus Blade again, this time into a set of brass knuckles, so the blow left the villain gasping for breath. Ron delivered one more punch, this time into his opponent's jaw.

With his opponent lying senseless on the floor, Ron sprinted back towards the hangar. He had to help Kim with Shego, then they would have to fight their way out of this apparent trap.

Once Shego recovered from the initial punch, it was a classic Kim vs. Shego clash. Kim used her superior agility and skill to counter Shego's superior strength and experience. It was a battle royal all through the hangar, with the two women exchanging blows and combinations and the Global Justice personnel alternately scrambling for cover and watching in amazement.

Shego was wondering how she was going to put an end to this little dance when Kim threw another series of strikes, driving her backwards.

"Alright, princess," Shego drawled, just like she had during countless fights. "Why don't we just…" She was interrupted when the buffoon, completely unexpectedly, slipped up behind her and swept her ankles with some sort of staff.

She fell flat on her back with a loud 'oof' then lashed out with one hand. Ron barely dodged the strike but it gave Shego the space she needed to spring to her feet…and put her face directly into Kim's roundhouse kick. The blow spun her around, directly into Ron's elbow-strike. Ron's elbow sent her back towards Kim, who planted a knee into the mercenary's chin. Shego collapsed like a rag doll.

Kim and Ron only had a moment to stand over their foe before Will Du and another agent shot the teens with their shock-watches.

"Restrain them and take them inside," Du instructed the gathering agents.

"_Is this some sort of betrayal?"_ Kim asked herself, as darkness snuffed out her vision.

* * *

The redhead became aware that she was sitting in a chair. She tried to move and discovered, without much surprise, that her hands and feet were cuffed to the furniture she was sitting upon. She opened her eyes and had a moment of panic when she saw Shego. After a moment, she realized that her nemesis was also cuffed to a chair, across a table from her. Fiske was sitting next to Shego and Ron, who was just coming around, sat to her left. Fiske and Ron were restrained, as well.

"Now, maybe we can have a productive conversation," Will commented, stepping into the conference room, accompanied by several other agents.

"Is this some sort of kidnapping, or takeover plot?" Kim snarled at him.

"No, it's keeping you from attacking one of our guests, yet again," Du replied. "Shego and Mr. Fiske showed up last night with some very interesting information. Unfortunately, you decided to attack first and listen later."

"What could she possibly tell you?" Kim demanded.

"That International Manufacturing is about to try to take over the world," Shego interrupted. "And they're using Drew to do it. After Amy took out Jack Hench, the word got around that a nine-foot tall, green woman…well, I tangled with a nine-foot tall, green woman, who was guarding Drew at a secret, International Manufacturing laboratory."

"Amy, a nine-foot tall, green woman," Ron scoffed. "Just how hard did Kim hit your head?"

"Sidekick," Shego chuckled. "Do I ever have a story for you."

Soon, the four combatants were unshackled and discussing what Shego and Monty had seen and how the attack on Henchco confirmed their story.

"The way I figure it, IM's going to make some sort of takeover attempt," Shego told her audience. "They've got classified areas on that island, so I think that's where they took Drew."

"Why do you think this?" Du asked.

"No reason," Shego admitted. "But it's their only classified facility that I know about, so I want to check it out."

"So why doesn't GJ form a team and conduct a search?" Ron asked.

"Shego and Lord Fiske aren't what you could consider reliable witnesses," Du informed him. Fiske looked offended while Shego grinned. "We cannot conduct an official investigation without more evidence."

"So you need us," Kim chimed in. "You can allow us to get in and snoop around. If we find something, we can give you the probable cause you need."

"Exactly," Du nodded. "But part of the deal we made with Shego is that she goes in with you."

"You mean we go in with them," Fiske corrected him.

"I don't like this," Kim informed Du.

"You don't have to like it," Du informed her. "But Global Justice keeps its word. Fiske and Shego go in. You don't have to go with them, but you might want to go and see if you can find your friend."

"You drive a hard bargain," Ron admitted.

"I assume you have some sort of plan?" Kim asked.

"I will be accompanying a UN inspection team, scheduled to arrive tomorrow," Du informed her. "I'm allowed to bring a certain staff with me, and that staff will be the four of you. You'll parachute in before we land and approach the private section of the island, underwater. We have located a water outflow point, which you should be able to use to get into the facility. After that, it will be up to you. Keep in mind that I'll be on the island. The minute you find anything that warrants a Global Justice investigation, contact me."

"Why can't we go sooner?" Ron asked.

"I'm assembling a medical team," Du told him.

"Why?"

"Let's say you find your friend," Du told Ron. "And he's comatose and connected to a complicated piece of medical equipment. What are you going to do?"

"I won't know what to do, either," Du told him, when Ron couldn't answer. "That's why I'm bringing in some experts. Now, we could send the four of you in, now, but the medical experts don't have the parachuting and diving experience that you do. We need an excuse to get them on the island, so that means leaving tomorrow."

"What do we do in the meantime?" Kim asked.

"Go to school," Du told her.

"What!?" Kim and Ron demanded.

"_**If**_ International Manufacturing is preparing a takeover scheme," Du informed them. "They'll be monitoring our affiliated teams' activities. Go to school today and attend all of your extracurricular activities. We will pick the two of you up tonight, after dark. We don't want them to suspect you're doing anything out of the ordinary."

"Like they haven't done a good enough job of tying you up with Pump," Shego chuckled.

"What?" Du and the teens demanded.

"Oh, you people are just too easy," the mercenary commented. "Didn't you think it strange that this new drug shows up in three places? There was Upperton, Go City and Runnerton."

Team Possible and the Global Justice Agents just looked at her.

"Runnerton is just a couple of miles from Mercerville," Shego said, with a shake of her head. "Just like Upperton is practically a suburb of Middleton."

"And Team Impossible is based out of Mercerville," Kim finished, dropping her forehead to the table.

"How could we have been so blind," Du mused. "A super addictive drug that costs more to produce than whomever is making it is selling it for, only being distributed close to Global Justice's affiliated teams. Do you really think International Manufacturing is behind it."

"I'd say they're the leading candidate at the moment," Shego informed him. "For whatever reason, someone was tying up these affiliated teams of yours. Who knows, if the princess and the buffoon had showed up when I got my butt kicked, we might not be at this point now."

"I'm still not convinced that International Manufacturing is attempting a world takeover or is behind Pump," Du told her.

"It doesn't matter," Shego told the lead agent. "We're going to know by this time tomorrow, aren't we?"

* * *

_A/N: Yet another chapter finished! I've posted this chapter on December 26th, 2008. As such, I'd like to take this opportunity to wish everybody reading this a happy, prosperous 2009, and I hope you all had an enjoyable Christmas. Again, my thanks to everyone who has taken the time to stick with the story this long._

_As always, my most heartfelt thanks go to Joe Stoppinghem, for his patient and long-suffering Beta efforts._

_Until my next update, best wishes;_

_daccu65_


	49. The Plot Unleashed

Chapter 49: The Plot Unleashed

"This is Golf Juliet flight seven-twenty," the pilot reported. "We're breaking formation at this time and heading for the deck. We will be observing complete signal emission control and radio listening silence, until we're out of the tactical zone."

"Good luck, Golf Juliet seven-twenty," Will Du's voice sounded over the receiver. The pilot didn't bother replying, he simply hit the transmission kill switch, to prevent any unintentional broadcasts. "Hang on," he advised over his shoulder.

Ron groaned as the small aircraft dropped rapidly, bringing his stomach into his throat. Kim smiled at him with a non-understanding sympathy. She had always loved being in a rapidly maneuvering aircraft. Looking at the other two passengers, on the other side of the narrow passenger section, she saw that Shego's reaction seemed to match her own, while Fiske clearly shared Ron's feelings.

The redhead sighed; it had been hard to concentrate during school, knowing that they would soon be traveling to the island. Still, they had put forth the effort. When they arrived at GJ's facility, they found that Will had changed their travel arrangements. Instead of parachuting from the Global Justice craft, the calm seas would allow them to simply jump into the ocean, without the parachutes. Du had then reiterated everything that GJ knew about the island's classified areas. Calling it sketchy was like calling Smartymart a moderately sized retail chain. Still, they had come up with a general plan of action.

"We're going to be doing this by the seat of our pants," Shego summarized. "Just remember, do not underestimate the big green woman. Once we get inside, Monty and I will try to get Drakken while you two go for the kid."

"Don't worry about us," Kim snarled back. "I just hope you two can keep up."

"We'll have our showdown soon enough Kimmie," Shego smirked at her teenaged nemesis. "For now, lets just get the mission done."

"Agreed," Ron stepped up, touching Kim's elbow to remind her that he was better at dealing with hostile people than she was. Kim backed off from the potential confrontation and let her mind go back to their preparations, at Global Justice.

After the briefings, Will Du had assigned the teens a guest barracks so they could get some rest. Ron had been shocked when shortly after he lay down on his bed, Kim had joined him, rather than using her own bed.

"I sleep better with you, when we're in mission mode," she had explained, throwing an arm over him and resting her head on his shoulder. She had felt Ron's tense muscles relax, as well. She had smiled, comforted both by his embrace and the fact that she had a similar, calming effect on him. They both managed a couple of hours of sleep before a GJ staffer woke them up.

"Uh, is something wrong?" Ron asked the pilot, snapping Kim back to the present. She now realized that the man wore a puzzled expression.

"Nothing for you to worry about," the man assured the blonde.

"I'm sitting in an aircraft that doesn't officially exist," Ron told the man. "A couple thousand miles from my home, flying just twenty feet over the ocean. I'd say that anything wrong is something for me to worry about."

"It's nothing serious," the pilot assured him, with a smile. "I just had to recalibrate the autopilot. We seem to be about 63 kilograms heavier than we should be."

"Ron, did you sneak Bueno Nacho on board?" Kim asked.

"NO!" He insisted. "Well, yes, but only two nacos and I had them in my pack when they weighed the aircraft. They should have been factored in."

"It's nothing I can't compensate for," the pilot assured Kim. "But this aircraft seems to have gained the weight since the post-fueling check."

"That's weird," Kim said. "I'll check the storage locker, maybe we packed something by mistake.

"That will not be necessary, Possible-san," Yori informed her, stepping out of the aforementioned locker. "Although it appears that, in addition to my gear's mass, I've gained some weight."

"Who the heck is that?" Shego demanded.

"A rather capable ninja," Fiske informed his lover. "And an ally of Ronald's."

"Trying to get the upper hand on us?" Shego sneered at Kim. "Didn't think you could handle the two of us without some help?"

"So not the case," Kim replied, mimicking Bonnie's superior attitude. "Who wound up out on the floor, in the hangar?"

"We can have a rematch at any time, princess," the mercenary ignited her fists.

"EVERYONE! COOL IT!" The pilot demanded. "I'm in charge until such time as you four…er, five, leave the craft. Now, that plasma of yours disrupts our stealth characteristics so kill it, or don't you want to rescue that blue guy?"

Shego stared daggers at the pilot, but did as she was told.

"What _**are**_ you doing here, Yori?" Ron asked.

"I have come to assist in the rescue of Felix-kun, of course," the Japanese girl informed the blonde.

"Then how did you know where and when we were leaving?" Kim asked. "We didn't talk about it, outside of the GJ facility."

"I stowed away on the aircraft yesterday morning," Yori confessed. "I observed your confrontation and listened in on your meeting."

"Impossible," Shego snorted. "I didn't see you."

"You were not supposed to see me," Yori informed her.

"There were agents everywhere," Shego countered. "What did you do, turn invisible or something."

With a condescending smile, Yori did just that, prompting shrieks from Kim and Shego. Yori promptly reappeared.

"It takes some getting used to," Ron told Kim.

"How did you do that?" Shego demanded.

"I am not at liberty to discus this skill," Yori informed her.

"Can you do that?" Kim asked Ron.

"No," he replied. "I've never gotten the hang of it."

"Anyway, what do we do with her?" Shego snarled.

"You do not need to do anything with me," Yori growled back. "I shall locate and stand guard over Felix-kun. You need not worry about my safety."

"Little girl, I'm not worried about your safety," Shego informed her, in a cold voice. "I'm more concerned about you screwing up and giving us away. We're going to have to be quiet and sneaky. Monty and I can do this, the princes there is pretty good as well and the buffoon seems to luck out. Think you can handle it?"

"I do not know," Yori's voice was laden with sarcasm. "Perhaps if I were to observe your meeting with Global Justice, then stow away upon a secret aircraft, all without you noticing, would you consider me capable of accompanying you?"

"That makes two girls, in this aircraft, who need their smart mouths shut for them," Shego muttered. "Alright, you might as well come along."

"Twenty minutes to the drop point," the pilot informed them, prompting all five to prepare their scuba gear.

"Why can't we drop from further out?" Ron whined. "I mean, we're taking a chance that they might spot us."

"I would be able to swim farther," Fiske informed the boy. "If I didn't have this stab wound in my thigh."

"Oh, yeah…heh," Ron mumbled. "Sorry about that."

"Just what is the deal with your sidekick's little toy?" Shego asked Kim. "I mean, not much can handle my plasma."

"It's a secret," Kim told her. "But I only feel it right to warn you; if you try to take it, you'll really get the _**point**_."

"Oh, Kimmie," Shego taunted. "I was having my doubts about you. Now I can see that you have the potential of turning into a first-rate smartass."

Kim couldn't help but smile as the odd group, Rufus included, prepared their gear. The island was just a dark mass, a lack of stars on the horizon, when the aircraft hovered a few feet over the waves. The five humans and one mole rat jumped into the water. The pilot dropped two, Global Justice, underwater runners and flew off.

* * *

"I have duties to attend to," Warmonga informed the Lipsky boys. "I want you to know that I've adjusted your shocker collars. If you try to leave the factory, they will deliver a painful, incapacitating jolt."

"This must be it, then," Drakken muttered. "You're executing your attack. We've never been left alone, guarded by an automated torture system before."

"You'll be able to monitor it at your work station," Warmonga told him. "And you'll be able to bring your power distribution network on line, as well. I've arranged for you to be able to view a few satellite news transmissions, so you'll be able to see what's happening."

"So it's too late to change your mind," Drakken muttered.

"It was too late when I transformed myself," Warmonga told him. "Cheer up, Drew, your power distribution network will alleviate a great deal of suffering. There will be hard times, but it will be worth it."

"I choose to not answer that," Drakken told her. Warmonga simply turned and stalked away.

"Cheer up, cuz, seriously," Ed gave his older cousin a pat on the back that nearly knocked Drakken over. "We finally get something on the tube!"

"We might as well," Drakken agreed. The two men made themselves as comfortable as they could, in the lab chairs.

* * *

The underwater runners looked a little like sleds. Kim, Ron, Rufus and Yori clung to one while Shego and Fiske took the other. All parties were soon swooping under the waves, guided by a combination of GPS and inertial navigation. Before long, they reached the water outlet pipe.

This pipe was very large, but drained water at a very slow rate. Global Justice suspected that the water was used as a coolant, since they had never managed to detect any form of contaminant in the outflow. The water was warmer than the ocean, but not uncomfortably so. After a few minutes of careful exploration, they reached a point where the pipe was only half full. The team surfaced to find a walkway over the flowing water.

The Lotus Blade, in wrist-grapple form, soon had the team on the walkway. They stowed the underwater runners and hid their wetsuits, as best they could.

"I'm really glad that this isn't a sewer," Ron quipped.

"Global Justice thinks that it's a coolant discharge," Kim reminded him.

"Why is it so large, Possible-san?" Yori asked.

"So they can keep the pressure down and use salt water," Kim answered. "At least, that's what GJ suspects. This walkway must be for maintenance and inspections."

"Will we find an exit by following the flow upstream?" Yori wondered. "And if so, where, in the facility, will we find ourselves?"

"We're just gonna have to go look," Shego drawled, assisting Fiske, who had developed a limp. "This island holds a fabrication plant, some sort of power plant, a medical facility, and who knows what else. I say we go for the fabrication plant, that's where Drakken will be located, if he's here."

"I'd rather go for the medical facility," Ron argued.

"Look, kid," Shego sighed. "I know that you want to find your school buddy, but your nerdlinger seems to think your friend came here of his own, free will. If we can find Drakken, we'll have a captive and evidence of whatever IM is doing. That'll be enough for Du to swarm this place with GJ agents. Then, we'll have plenty of opportunity to get your friend out."

Neither Kim nor Ron could argue with Shego's logic. Of course, they had no idea where to find the fabrication plant, so they simply followed the walkway upstream, looking for an exit. They found an exit and a valuable piece of information at the same time.

Next to the exit, the team found both a light switch and a coolant system schematic. Shego quickly grabbed the plans and started to study them.

"Aha!" She exulted. "They call it a factory, but the fabrication plant's outflow pours into this tunnel twenty meters further in. It looks like the factory's coolant pipes branch two hundred meters to the north of that."

"What about the medical facility?" Ron asked.

"We agreed to go to the factory," Shego growled.

"I'm not arguing," Ron replied. "But the minute we call in Du, I'm heading for the medical facility, so I might as well find out where I have to go."

Shego gave him a curious look before returning her attention to the schematic. "According to this, the medical facility's pipe branches about seventy meters east of the factory's."

The earth around them began to quiver, interrupting the villainess.

* * *

"A truly, glorious sight," Warrick commented, his arm around Warmonga. The two stood in Warrick's office, overlooking the rest of the island, as rocket after rocket shot into orbit. "I must reward the scientist who planned the mass launch. Various authorities may have become suspicious, if we had a thousand robots in orbit at the same time. However, by launching all of our rockets at once, we avoid suspicion."

"The UN inspection flight landed just before the launch commenced," Amy told him. "Will they be able to cause any problems?"

"We had scheduled this launch with them, so they won't be suspicious. It's too late for them to warn anybody, even if they suspected us. In less than an hour, we strike! Shortly after that, the world will be ours."

* * *

"That must be the mass launch that Du was talking about," Kim told her companions.

"I wonder if this is when they're going to make their move?" Shego commented. "This would make for a great distraction."

"It would,' Fiske agreed. "But what shall we do next? The way I see it, we can either go charging into the facility or attempt to be sneaky."

"Bold," Shego declared. "I'm willing to bet that they've got cameras all over this place." She snorted, "they may even be watching us now."

"Right," Kim agreed. "Move fast, don't give them a chance to react to us."

"But remember, Possible-san," Yori chimed in. "There are innocents here who must be protected."

"We'll protect them best by getting to them quick," Shego snapped. "Okay, let's go." She threw the hatch open and burst out, right into the middle of a group of guards.

Kim assumed that the men were guards, even as she leapt into the fray. At least, they were all large, burly men, in uniforms, carrying radios and nightsticks. She also didn't know if the guards had been sent to deal with her group or if they just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. She suspected that they were just a roving patrol, since they seemed to be completely shocked when Shego tore into them.

There were five of the men and Shego had the first one down before anybody could react. The second man swung his nightstick at the green mercenary, which she blocked. By now, Kim had closed in and engaged another nightstick-wielding guard. She dodged his strike and drove a knee into his stomach. Another guard closed in upon her but Ron grappled the man. Behind the rest of the guards, the fifth man was pulling his radio out of its holder.

Kim couldn't reach him, as she was still tangling with her opponent. Shego and Ron were also unable to prevent the call. However, with a faint, whispering sound, Yori vaulted over the combatants, turned a graceful flip, and brought her foot down on the guard's hand. The guard dropped the radio, which the lithe ninja crushed under her heel, even as she squared off against the man. With four guards up, and one each engaged with Shego, Kim, Yori and Ron, Fiske slipped through the chaos and rushed down the hallway, at a rapid limp.

Kim landed two quick punches on her opponent's jaw, sending him staggering back to the wall where he slumped to the floor, groaning in pain. Kim turned to she Shego's fist smash through her guard's nightstick and into his belly, both folding him and sending him flying backwards. Yori lashed out with a quick kick, catching her opponent in the groin. As he collapsed, she drove a knee into his chin. Finally, Ron's opponent quit struggling, incapacitated by the stranglehold the blonde boy had applied.

"Where did Fiske go?" Kim demanded of Shego.

"He went to complete our mission," she snarled, pulling her opponent's radio out of its holster and crushing the device. "He's trying to find Drew."

"But he's injured," Ron protested, mimicking Shego's action and destroying his guard's radio. Kim quickly followed suit.

"That's why we've got to catch up to him, quick!" Shego informed them. "Let's deal with these guards." The mercenary grabbed one guard by the front of his shirt, lifting him partway off of the ground. She ignited her other fist, prepared to deliver a killing blow.

"No way, Shego," Kim informed her. "You do that and we'll have our showdown, right here and now!"

"I will not strike down a helpless foe, if it is not necessary," Yori commented.

Shego considered her options. She knew that she and the princess were evenly matched and the sidekick tilted the odds in Kimmie's favor. While she didn't know much about the little Japanese schoolgirl, Fiske had been impressed with her, so she figured her to be at about the sidekick's level. If she tried to do the practical thing and off the guards, she'd be getting into a meaningless fight; one that they didn't have time for and one that she probably couldn't win. "We can't just leave 'em here to sound the alarm, once they come to, what else can we do?"

"I've got an idea," Ron answered, pulling a set of cuffs from his guard's belt.

Soon, the guards were all cuffed together; the first guard's wrist to the second guard's ankle, the second guard's ankle to the third guard's wrist, and so on. That detail taken care of, the four rushed off to catch up to Fiske.

* * *

"Activate the attack," Warrick Loward commanded. In front of him, a technician keyed the proper commands into his workstation. Around the island, hidden antennas produced a powerful, dampening field. High overhead, hordes of International Manufacturing walkers, already in low-earth orbit, began to descend. Most of the payloads still rising from the island suddenly flew off course. Only the rockets carrying the power distribution satellites continued to rise into their proper orbits.

At the same time, multiple walker robots activated upon the island itself. A dozen machines marched northward, into the sea for the four-mile journey under the channel separating the two islands. Six more walkers surrounded the dock and inspection facilities.

"UN control, this is inspection flight Sierra, respond please," the UN pilot called, yet again. His aircraft was supposed to remain in constant contact with his home base, but he had lost all communication several minutes ago. He pulled out his local radio, "Agent Du, this is your pilot. I've lost all home communications, do you read me?" Again, he received no response.

"Head out and find Du," the pilot instructed the navigator. "Something really fishy is going on." The navigator leapt to his feet and rushed to the hatch, only to stare in shock at an oncoming walker. "Sir," he called. "You need to see this!"

The pilot took one look at the oncoming machine and ordered everyone off of the aircraft. He took a headcount as everyone filed past him, and exited the aircraft last. He had no sooner scrambled down the stairs than one of the walker's legs swiped at the aircraft, chopping off the tail. The flight crew ran for the UN inspection team's office facilities, where they saw their passengers gathered. The walker followed them, almost like a dog herding sheep.

"Do not attempt to leave this building," a loudspeaker on the walker announced. "Obey all instructions and you will not be harmed."

"What's going on?" The pilot asked Will Du. "What does this mean?"

"It means that a certain dark-haired, green-skinned criminal was telling the truth," the agent replied, stuffing his non-operative communicator back in its holder. "And it means that I have to get to the manufacturing part of this island as soon as I can."

* * *

"Fiske, what are you doing here?" Dr. Drakken gasped when the nobleman burst into the laboratory.

"We're here to rescue you," Fiske informed the man.

"I'm afraid that won't work," Drakken told him. The blue-skinned scientist told his former…colleague?…about the shocker collars and the automatic system.

"Very well, we can still call in the Global Justice team," Fiske announced. He quickly activated his communication device. "Blast it!" He snarled. "It doesn't appear to be functioning."

"Or International Manufacturing is blocking all signals," Drakken told him. "It's started, Monty."

"What's started?" Shego demanded, now storming into the lab with the other three on her heels.

"Their world takeover plan," Drakken told her. "The walkers have just started to descend onto their targets. Additional walkers have moved out to seize the nuclear weapons stockpile, on the other island. More of these walkers are standing by, ready to be launched onto any target that resists."

"And we cannot contact Du," Monty added, holding up his useless communicator.

"What do we do now?" Shego asked.

"I can attempt some resistance from this point," Drakken informed them. This war will be won or lost during the first few hours. I can disrupt them!"

"Or so you think," Warmonga drawled, walking into the lab from another doorway. "I thought you'd try something, Drew, but I can't imagine what you think you can accomplish."

"Kimmie," Shego said, as if speaking in a normal conversation. "Why don't you take your sidekick and Yoshi, or whatever her name is, and go look for your little friend? **A**_**MY**_ and I have a conversation to continue."

"Amy's long gone," Warmonga stated, pulling out her collapsible staff and extending it to its weapon form. "I thought our last meeting would have taught you that. Still, you never were all that bright. You obtained your powers by accident and rode Drew's coattails to mediocrity. Still, I'm willing to give you another chance to fail." Warmonga strode forward.

"She's all mine," Shego roared, springing forward. She ducked Warmonga's first wild swing, sprang over the second, performed a somersault and slashed her claws across Warmonga's left hamstring. Shego then executed three graceful back flips, barely avoiding a series of thrusts and swings.

"Possible-san, Stoppable-san, we must go," Yori pleaded with her friends, even as she pulled at their arms. "This…Shego…is correct. She will keep the giant occupied while we contact Du-san and locate Felix-kun."

"What good will that do?" Kim asked, as she and Ron turned to follow their friend. Unnoticed, Rufus scampered into the mass of wiring under one of the workstations. "Our communications don't work."

"Perhaps only the laboratory is shielded," Yori suggested, breaking into a sprint. "I shall attempt to locate Felix-kun if you wish to find some way to contact Du-san."

"No," Kim decided. "We stick together."

"This way," Yori indicated a left-turn. "I memorized where the schematic showed the drains for the medical facility."

* * *

Back in the factory, Ed flopped to his back as Shego and Warmonga continued their fight. A long, high-pitched wail forced itself out of Ed's throat.

"Ed, how bad is it?" Drakken asked, dropping to his knees by his cousin. "How can she be shocking you and not me?"

"Shocking?" Ed asked. "Dude, I ain't getting shocked, seriously."

"You're playing air guitar?" Drakken demanded. When Ed nodded he asked, "why?"

"This is one seriously hot, gnarly chick-fight!" The big blonde declared.

Both Fiske and Drakken looked at the scene, where Shego was using her agility and skill to combat Warmonga's strength and durability. Both men, although they would never say anything, had to admit that Ed had something of a point. Shego was extremely attractive and Warmonga, although oversized, had a striking, feminine form. Add their intense, physical exertions and….

Shaking his head, "no!" Drakken told his companions. "This is no time to get distracted. Monty, Ed, if you can keep her away from me, I'll see what I can do."

With that, Drakken walked to his workstation, which showed both the walkers' distribution and the satellite power distribution network, which was only now coming on line.

"Soon," Drakken murmured to his companions. "Once the power distribution net comes on line."

"Then what?" Fiske asked.

"Long story," Drakken told him.

Fiske longed to help Shego fight Amy, but he realized that in his wounded state, he would be more a liability than an asset. Still, he stayed close, mesmerized by the tableau unfolding in front of him.

* * *

Yori burst into the medical facility, with Kim and Ron on her heels. For a moment, the three teens stared around the impressive facility, until they spotted a row of large tanks, spaced along one wall. Three people, wearing lab coats, were discussing the readings at a workstation, which was connected to one of the tanks. For several, long moments, the three teens and the three staff members stared at each other. Yori was the first to regain her wits.

The ninja sprang into action, rushing across the facility, vaulting any piece of equipment that kept her from the staff members. Kim followed quickly, in the same manner, while Ron took longer, running around the obstructions. Yori reached the staff members and caught the first one in a wristlock, forcing him to sit on a nearby chair. The other two members realized that the teens weren't typical kids, and fled in different directions.

"Capture them!" Yori shouted to her friends. "They will know how to treat Felix-Kun!"

Kim and Ron needed no further urging. Kim, the quicker across the room, went for the farthest staff member while Ron tackled the last one, in a manner that would have had Coach Barkin questioning his decision to play the boy on offense. The staff members weren't fighters, so Kim and Ron quickly forced their captives to join Yori's, at the tank. Here, Ron got a good look at the inside and nearly stopped breathing when he recognized his friend.

* * *

Across the globe, several defense departments observed, with concern, as swarms of radar contacts rose from the South Pacific and started to drop back to Earth, all over the world. The observers weren't terribly alarmed; after all, an international team had inspected the IM payloads and reported no warheads. Still, these were radar contacts coming down onto their own, home territory. A great deal of this tension disappeared when a very polite man, who worked for International Manufacturing, made a statement on television.

"International Manufacturing regrets to inform the world that our launch plans have proven faulty," he said. "Many of the payloads already in space have fallen out of orbit, and almost all of our payloads currently launching have become erratic. We have a certain, minimum amount of control and will attempt to guide these payloads away from major population centers. I have no further information at this time and our engineers are, understandably, too busy to make statements to the press. I will have further updates as events warrant."

Many nations placed their emergency response teams on alert. All across the world, personal claims attorneys started to salivate.

* * *

"I beat you once before," Warmonga snarled at Shego, throwing a kick at her. "What makes you think that you'll do any better this time?"

"Amy, Amy, Amy," Shego snapped back, avoiding the kick and sweeping the giantess's supporting leg. "You still have a lot to learn. It isn't the first fight that matters, or the second, or even the third. Only the last fight matters." With that, Shego hopped over another swipe of Amy's staff.

So far, Shego's strategy was working. She knew that her plasma was worthless, so she didn't waste her energy using it. Instead, she concentrated on her fighting skill and her claws. Strangely, she was fighting Amy much the same way that the princess fought her; knowing that she couldn't take many of her hyper-strong opponent's shots and that she would have to deliver a lot, herself.

Lord Montgomery Fiske stood in helpless frustration, watching as his love fight for her life against the giant, green monstrosity. What was equally frustrating was that Dr. Drakken was preparing to execute some sort of 'plan', which was completely beyond Fiske's comprehension. For the first time in his life, Fiske regretted studying archaeology, rather than a more technical field.

Still, he had to admit that Shego was getting the best of the encounter, at least until a door opened behind her, admitting a second, green-tinted giant. Before Fiske could shout a warning, the second giant smashed a fist into Shego's unsuspecting back.

Shego had never felt such exhilaration! Was this how the princess felt, when the two of them fought? It had to be! It was challenging; knowing that one, solid hit could finish her off. This was truly living dangerously! Oh, she had taken some shots. She would be stiff, sore and bruised in the morning but she was winning! Her claws had inflicted multiple cuts on Amy's limbs and while Shego was breathing heavily, her opponent was heaving like a bellows. Just a few more slashes with her claws, a few more dodged strikes and Amy would be ripe for the picking! Shego's shock was complete when she felt a hammer blow hit her in the kidneys.

The hit both stunned her, and sent her sprawling forwards, towards Amy. The geneticist rallied and hit Shego with her staff, sending her back towards her unseen assailant. Shego managed to turn herself around in time to see a second giant, even larger than Amy. Her last sight was a massive, green fist, speeding forward to strike her face.

* * *

_A/N: _

_Okay, I know that it's an evil cliffie, but I promise you won't have to wait long for an update. I still intend to finish the tale before the end of the year. Two chapters left!_

_Thank you again for sticking with me through this long, winding tale. _

_My fondest thanks to Joe Stoppinghem, for his incredible beta work!_

_Until my next update, best wishes;_

_daccu65_


	50. Resisting the Lowardians

Chapter 50: Resisting the Lowardians

Fiske gathered himself, the moment Shego went down, prepared to hurl himself at the two giants. A large hand grasped his shoulder, preventing him from doing so.

"I don't think that's gonna do any good, seriously," Ed whispered to him. "If the green babe can't handle them two, you can't, seriously."

"Unhand me you brute," Fiske snapped back, with as much heat as a whisper would allow.

"Whatcha gonna do, monkey-man, seriously?" Ed whispered right back, unfazed. "Goin' out there and getting stomped ain't gonna do her any good."

"What else can I do?" Fiske demanded, as the male giant hoisted Shego by one leg.

"Go find Red and the Skinny Dude, seriously," Ed urged him. "They might be able to do something."

"Those two will catch me before I can find them!" Fiske insisted.

"Not if they're paying serious attention to me," Ed informed Fiske. "Cuz," the big man spoke to Drakken. "Are you serious about being able to do something, or was it just hot air?"

"I am perfectly serious about being able to resist them," Drakken informed his cousin. "But I can't do anything if they're watching me."

"Well then, I guess I'm gonna take some serious lumps," he grumbled. "Monkey man, get ready to run."

"HEY! Green dudes!" Ed shouted at Warmonga and Warrick. "I have seriously had it with being pushed around! I've had it with you grabbing me and making me do this crap!" Ed produced a large wrench and charged the two. "It's time to do some wrecking of my own."

Fiske was surprised when Ed managed to evade that green man's first punch and hammer his wrench into the man's stomach. The blow sounded like somebody hitting an oak tree with a sledgehammer and appeared to have as much effect. The unknown green man backhanded Ed, sending him sprawling across the floor. Ed shook his head then gamely struggled to his feet, hefting his wrench. The green man waved Amy to one side and, somewhat gracefully, assumed a martial arts stance. Seeing that both of their adversaries had their full attention on the big man, Fiske stealthily slipped out of the factory.

He flinched as the sounds of fighting became more and more the sounds of a pummeling.

Drew Lipsky did his best to ignore the beating his cousin was taking and concentrated on the task at hand. The power distribution network satellites had just moved into position. Drew activated the satellites, generating the ability to transmit power worldwide. He also activated something Amy and Warrick didn't suspect; an activation and instruction signal. Drew now stepped back from the console, praying that he had made the right decision.

* * *

"He's not in any pain," the head medical technician told the three teens. "He's under anesthetic while his body restructures itself, according to his genetic ideal."

"So he's not going to turn into some freak, like Amy?" Kim demanded.

"Around here she's known as Warmonga," the man insisted. "And she's no freak, but an evolution. But to answer your question, no, he's not going to turn into an enhanced human. He will turn into what Felix Renton should have become, had he not been crippled."

"And he is in no danger at this time?" Yori asked.

"The systems have redundant backups," he assured the Japanese girl. "We're really only here to monitor his progress. His own body is doing all of the work."

"Ronald, Kim!" Fiske gasped, bursting into the medical facility. "Thank heavens I've found you. You need to get back to the factory!" Fiske gasped out the events that had taken place since the teens departed. "I don't think that Ed can hold out for very long," he concluded.

"But Felix," Ron protested.

"I can guard him, Stoppable-san," Yori assured her friend. "These," she indicated the medical staff, "are not fighters."

Reluctantly, Ron agreed and followed Kim and Fiske back the way they had come. Back in the medical facility, Yori looked at the three technicians, then picked up some rather sharp medical implements.

"I do not find enjoyment in inflicting pain upon others," she announced to the technicians. "But if any of you should attempt to escape, attack me, or injure Felix-kun in any way, it will be my duty to demonstrate my mastery of this skill."

The three technicians could only stare, wide-eyed, at this petite schoolgirl who seemed to tower over them.

* * *

"Have…you…had…enough…yet…seriously?" Ed gasped. He could barely see his opponent through his swelling and his own blood pouring into his eyes. His left arm hung useless at his side and his wrench was long gone. Still, he leaned back against the wall and used it to get…somewhat…onto his feet. "I'll give you a break if you want to call it quits, seriously."

"Your former colleagues are quite amusing, Warmonga," Warrick chuckled. The enhanced man had some minor bruising on his arms and torso, mute testimony to Ed's efforts. "Perhaps we should allow them to live, for amusement and training."

"We could even breed this one with the little green hussy," Warmonga laughed. "Their descendants could provide us with entertainment for decades to come."

Normally, Ed would have been seriously down with that last suggestion but he just wasn't in that kind of mood right now. "Quit…stalling…seriously," he gasped. "I…know…you're…just…trying…to…seriously…psych…me."

"I suppose it is time to end this," Warrick snickered and stepped forward. "You've been a worthy adversary, within your limitations." He drew back a massive fist.

"You're not quite done yet," a voice interrupted him. He spun to find himself facing Team Possible.

* * *

In an abandoned mine, in South Dakota, the satellite power and command transmission penetrated a chamber, which had been shielded until recently. Inside this chamber, thirty diablo toys, which Drakken had stowed before his downfall, activated. One of the toys took flight and keyed in a code on the hidden room's door. The door opened and the toys flew out the mineshaft and into the open air. The toys didn't assume their large size; instead they remained small and hard to detect as they flew south, towards Fort Riley.

At two other points in the US, hidden stockpiles of thirty diablo robots activated and flew towards the nearest, tactical base.

Across the world, the International Manufacturing mining robots crashed to the ground. Strangely, the crash sites seemed to all be close to military bases, communications hubs, and government offices. Without fail, the robots activated and stalked towards these facilities. Most militaries, however, weren't caught completely off guard.

Since Drakken's diablo attack, all active-duty US Army and Marine bases kept one company sized unit fully armed and on alert at all times. Most other major military powers had adopted similar policies. Thus, as the robots closed in on the military bases, they were greeted by a wave of shells and missiles.

Yet this firepower didn't seem to phase the oncoming robots. Strange, shimmering shields wavered into existence around the robots, detonating the missiles and deflecting the shells. Still, the troops kept firing, manning their positions even as the robots overran them.

* * *

"So you think you can deal with the likes of us?" Warrick Loward asked Kim and Ron, casually swatting Ed away. Even if you defeat us, you still lose. My automation system will direct my walkers to seize control of this world. You can't win."

"Why tell us this?" Kim demanded.

"Because, believe it or not, I want to avoid the confrontation," Loward told her. "You've dedicated the past several years to helping people. Among other things, you've helped crush world domination attempts and have helped people afflicted with injustice. Serve us! You will do the same thing in the New World Order that we will bring about! The world will be a better place under my rule."

"And what happens to those who don't want you to rule them?" Ron asked. "What happens to those who don't want to follow the plan you lay out? Will they be free to find their own path?"

"There will be no other path," Loward insisted. "Such dissidence brings about discord, which then brings about conflict and chaos. We will impose order upon this world, bringing forth a hierarchy of talent and knowledge. All will either adapt or fall. Which do you chose?"

"We're not going to bow to you," Kim informed him, assuming a martial arts stance. Ron quickly mimicked her actions.

"Then it would appear that I will have some more recreation, before assuming the duties as the world's ruler."

Warrick Loward stalked towards the teens, while Amy hung back, catching her breath after her clash with Shego.

* * *

Sergeant Biggers continued to fire upon the oncoming robot. Neither his bullets, the Javelin antitank missiles from the squad's antitank gunner, or the tank rounds from the supporting armor unit seemed to be having any effect. He could clearly see the rounds either detonating before impact, or deflecting. Biggers had once been a poor farm boy, from Kansas, who had joined the Army in order to afford college. Once in, however, he had found the life to his liking. The GI bill money was still there, but it looked like it was never going to be used. He enjoyed the NCO's life and he greatly appreciated the fact that the Army had taken an impoverished farm boy and had transformed him into a respectable, professional NCO at Fort Riley.

He was grateful enough to give his all.

"Stay down," he ordered his fire team. "And keep your eyes open."

"Lieutenant!" He yelled at his platoon leader. "I've got an idea!"

"What is it?" The lieutenant demanded. The officer was on the verge of hysterics, watching his men decimated while their weapons had no effect on their assailants.

"No time to say," the sergeant yelled back. "Just watch!"

With that, sergeant Biggers grabbed an AT4, jumped from his fighting position and rushed towards the oncoming robot. A burst of light, the sergeant assumed it was a laser, scorched the ground next to him, the residual heat blistering his leg. It didn't matter. One of the robot's legs swiped at him, tearing a painful gouge out of his shoulder. That didn't matter either. He ran into the shimmering shield and pushed against it. It was like pushing his way though thick mud, and it felt like his body was covered with stinging bees, but the pain didn't matter. He could hear the lieutenant yelling at the platoon, exhorting them to redouble their fire to distract the robot from the sergeant, even as he wondered what he had just done to his body. Had he just subjected himself to a lethal dose of radiation? He felt rather numb, kind of like the feeling after sustaining an injury but before the pain kicked in.

His injuries didn't matter; Sergeant Biggers was now directly under the robot.

Not knowing his target's weak points, he aimed at the center of the underside, idly noting that one of the clawed feet was slashing down towards him. He pulled the trigger, firing the rocket. The back-blast, as he knew it would, deflected off of the ground and both burned and shredded his lower body, even as the robot's leg slashed in.

Sergeant Biggers' last sight was the rocket inflicting a clean hit on the robot's undercarriage.

The lieutenant stared in horror at his sergeant's sacrifice, then came to his senses when he realized that the oncoming monster had actually staggered. "Soft belly!" He shouted over the radio. "They don't have any shielding under them!" With that, the lieutenant stood for a moment in horrid indecision. He didn't want to do what he knew he was going to have to do, but he couldn't put it off. Taking a deep breath, he picked up another AT4, prepped it, and prepared to charge the target. It turned out he didn't need to do so.

A tank round crashed into the robot, staggering it even more. It only took a moment for the soldiers to understand the significance of that act; the thing's shields weren't operational! Before the lieutenant could shout an order, a fresh wave of ordinance crashed into the walker, collapsing it's shredded, incinerated remains on top of the sergeant who had sacrificed himself.

The lieutenant reported the action to his commander as more walkers closed in on his position. He knew that the odds were very much against them, but now they had a chance! That's when the diablo robots suddenly appeared amongst the oncoming walkers.

* * *

Warrick Loward quickly decided that there was more to this fighting thing than he had appreciated. These two teenagers were getting the better of him! The redheaded girl was nearly impossible to hit and the blonde boy blocked his strikes, then rolled with the blows to bleed off the force. Whenever he attacked one, the other would get in several shots. While he wasn't out of the contest yet, he was severely battered. Again, he threw a punch at the girl and again, she flipped backwards, out of the way while the boy smashed a staff into his knee. Roaring in rage, he continued to attack the girl, forcing her back against a wall. For a moment, he thought he had her trapped but the girl jumped, diving over his head. He spun, just in time to catch the boy's staff in his face. Warrick promptly found himself sitting on his butt.

Kim dove over her opponent, landing in a graceful, front tumble. She had regained her feet and was ready to turn back against Warrick when Amy's staff smashed into her torso. The redhead felt her ribs give way as she was sent flying towards Drakken's workstation. She smashed into a heavy piece of machinery and slumped, motionless to the floor.

"KP!" Ron shrieked, forgetting his opponent and running to the person who meant more to him than anyone else. Crouching over her unmoving form, he brushed her hair out of her face and leaned close. Tears of joy sprang from his eyes when he realized that she was still breathing.

Ron's attention was forced back to the current situation when Warmonga jabbed him with her staff. The thrust lifted the boy away from Kim and pinned him against a wall. Warmonga pressed some control and Ron felt a small poke, like a needle punching into his skin. Pinned helpless against the wall, Ron felt his ribs start to buckle as Warrick regained his feet.

"This ends, now," the green giant declared. "Team Possible has fallen and the world will soon follow. Warmonga, please do the honors and eliminate this pest."

* * *

The lieutenant's despair turned into hope when the diablo robots attacked the walkers. He quickly shook off his inactivity. "Target the walkers," he ordered his men. "Pick your shots, they have soft underbellies!" He grabbed his radio and reported this latest development up the line.

This report, that the walkers had soft undersides and that the diablos were allies, quickly found its way around the entire world. While only three bases, all in North America, had diablo allies, the rest of the world could take some hope that their assailants were not invincible. Additional walkers dropped out of orbit, converging upon the areas of greatest resistance.

Back at Fort Riley, the diablos proved to be no match for the walkers, yet they distracted and confused the rampaging machines. Often, the walkers would expose their undercarriages when they attacked the diablos, giving the soldiers opportunities to hit the soft spots. By the time the six walkers that had attacked Fort Riley were destroyed, only twelve of the thirty diablos remained functional. A few miles away, twenty more walkers crashed to earth.

The lieutenant considered the oncoming second wave, then looked behind him, where the alerted division was scrambling to arm itself. Long lines of tanks and infantry vehicles were passing through the ammunition supply point, before moving out to take up defensive positions. Close at hand swarms of soldiers, many still wearing civilian clothes, were deploying to meet the oncoming threat. The lieutenant considered the decimated company and considered the oncoming walkers. Based upon the strength he knew his division could muster, he guessed that it would be a battle of mutual annihilation.

* * *

"No!" Fiske roared, leaping at Warmonga. Unfortunately, his wounded leg didn't allow graceful movement. His attempt to dodge her contemptuous backhand failed, and he wound up sprawled against the very wall Ron was pinned against. Warrick stalked forward to place his foot over Kim's throat.

"This is the fate of all who oppose us," the giant declared.

"Ronald, you're the worlds only hope," Fiske hissed at the teenager above him. "You're _**her **_only hope!"

For a moment nothing happened, then Fiske saw the sight he had once vowed he would never see again, and now desperately needed to see.

Ron Stoppable's face came up to glare at his two tormentors, with glowing blue eyes.

Saying that Ron roared in anger would be inaccurate; instead, he shrieked like an enraged monkey. Warrick Loward stepped back from Kim, stunned by what he saw. Ron, despite being outweighed by at least four to one, grabbed Amy's staff and forced it away. Unpinned, the boy launched himself at the geneticist, flipping in midair and driving both of his feet into her midsection. The giantess flew backwards, out of the door that the intruders had used to enter the factory. Now, Ron turned towards Warrick.

Ron Stoppable had not grown any larger. While a faint, bluish halo had appeared around the boy, it did not appear to be any sort of special power, like Team Go's various go powers. Still, why did this plain, average teenager suddenly look so intimidating?

Warrick refused to be cowed. Ignoring the unmoving girl at his feet, he rushed the blonde boy. Ron met his charge, scampering towards his foe on all fours like a monkey. Loward lashed out with his right hand and Ron jumped over the fist and scampered up Loward's arm, to punch and claw at the giant's face. Enraged, Loward brought his left hand up to seize the boy, only to have Ron spring off of him, grab the wrist and use it to twirl himself around, driving both of his feet into Loward's abused face.

The giant staggered backwards while Ron landed gracefully, again on all fours. The boy scampered forward once again and dove between the stunned man's legs. Twirling quickly, Ron grabbed his oponent's ankles and yanked, dropping the man onto his face. Loward lashed out with a foot and managed to hit the boy, but Ron merely retreated with a series of flips, bleeding off the blow's force. Loward suddenly realized that he was overmatched. Desperate, he stumbled back towards Kim.

"I'll kill her!" He roared at the oncoming Ron Stoppable. "I'll kill your little girlfriend if you don't surrender right now!" The man reached down, to seize Kim's throat.

A blue blur swept by him and Loward suddenly didn't have a right hand. He looked down to see the appendage lying next to the redhead, then back towards Ron Stoppable, who now brandished a sword. Loward, both panicked and enraged, drew back his foot to kick the helpless girl, to fulfill his threat. However, Ron was now as fully attuned to the Mystical Monkey Power as he had ever been. Ron rushed forward, spun and chopped off Loward's foot. Off-balance, the giant fell towards Ron. Ron slid slightly backwards and held the Lotus Blade in front of him, point up. Loward fell and the blade's tip caught him just under his sternum. His own weight drove the blade into his chest cavity and into his heart.

His last sight was Ron Stoppable's blue-tinted glare.

* * *

The robots closed in and the soldiers unleashed a wave of shells and missiles. The diablos also stalked forward, struggling with the nearly indestructible machines. One of the walkers stumbled over a fallen diablo, exposing its undercarriage. This walker was soon reduced to flaming junk but the remainder kept coming on. The lieutenant, along with dozens of additional volunteers, hefted AT4 rockets, ready to rush the oncoming foe. A colonel, the highest-ranking man to reach the battlefield, wept, knowing the sacrifice he was about to order.

* * *

"Warrick!" Warmonga screamed; stalking back into the factory just in time to see her lover killed. The green-tinted giant hefted her staff and took aim and Ron.

"Get her clear from here," Monty whispered to his one-time rival. "I'll look after the wounded. Our companions are in no condition for jostling, and that my happen if you fight her in here."

Ron nodded and scampered, on all fours, towards Warmonga. He sprang upright for a moment, enough time for her to aim a thrust at him, then dropped low again and dove between her legs. She spun around, just in time to see him flee the lab. After a moment's hesitation, she rushed after him.

Beep-beep-bee-deep.

At the familiar tone, Fiske pulled Possible's Kimmunicator out of her cargo pocket.

"Lord Fiske," Wade gasped. "I was expecting Kim!"

"She has been incapacitated," Fiske reported. "But that isn't important right now! How are you able to overcome the facilities communications shields?"

"Rufus managed to connect one of my gizmos to their computer network," Wade answered. "I've got communications and I'm about to take control of their systems. Should I contact Du?"

"Yes, we need the medical team for Shego, Kim and Edward," Fiske answered.

"So Dr. Drakken and Motor Ed are there?" Wade asked.

"Indeed."

"Where's Ron?"

"He has drawn off the last of the super-powered combatants," Fiske told him. "But we may be facing additional guards. Can you deal with the walkers?"

"I'm doing that right now," Wade smirked, despite his concern for his friends.

* * *

Across the planet, Lowardian Walkers suddenly deactivated their shields and shambled to a halt. Most of them,near military bases were quickly destroyed. At Fort Riley, a colonel breathed a sigh of relief.

At the UN General Assembly, frightened diplomats continued to argue with each other, wondering what to do about the two, giant robots that wouldn't let anyone leave. Suddenly, the large screen above the stage came to life, displaying Wade Lode's face.

"Dr. Director," the boy called, the sound system drowning out the confused babble. "I've managed to reboot the attacking robots' systems. They'll remain inactive for about a half-hour. I'm trying to assume full control, but I can't guarantee that I'll be able to do so."

"Very good, Mr. Lode," Dr. Director stood and strode towards the podium, certain that the genius had hacked into the camera systems and would see her. "Have you re-established communications for this building?"

"Yes ma'am."

"I'll take it from here," she assured the boy, then turned towards the assembled diplomats. "Ladies and gentlemen, we have a rare, temporary opportunity. I would suggest that you all contact your home governments and urge them to destroy every Lowardian Walker they can find."

With that, the professional woman stalked off of the stage while calling her organization. She needed to arrange for transport to a certain South-Pacific Island.

* * *

"Agent Du!" Wade's face appeared on Will Du's communication device. "I've got three injured parties in the manufacturing facility! Please get your team over there ASAP!"

"The robots outside the hangar…" Du began.

"Have been temporarily deactivated," Wade interrupted. "I'm having the Kimmunicator send a tracking signal. Use your own communicator to home in. I can't talk, I've got to try to find a permanent solution."

Du didn't need any further urging. He gathered his team and rushed towards the island's classified area.

* * *

"I'll stay here," Drakken told Fiske. "The walkers have destroyed the last of my diablos, so I can't do anything more. Go find Stoppable and help him, if you can."

Fiske hesitated for a moment, looking at the battered Shego, before nodding and rushing off.

Ron had led Amy back towards the coolant discharge tunnel, the only place he was sure he could face her without endangering anybody else. He waited on the walkway as she closed in on him.

"Why did you kill him?" Amy demanded, stalking forward and brandishing his staff. "He never meant to harm you."

"He was threatening to kill KP," Ron answered, dropping into an all-fours stance.

"Only after you broke in here. You and Kim could have become valued enforcers for us, we would have made this a better world! You certainly remember your torment by the high school bullies, we would have put an end to that, worldwide."

"But at too high a cost," Ron told her.

"You may say so," Amy told him. "But I can still make this work. The rest of your companions are in no condition to face me. Once you're out of the picture, I'll go back, restore order, and rebuild this world in Warrick's name."

Warmonga rushed forward, thrusting with her staff. Much as with Warrick's arm, Ron hopped onto the oncoming weapon and ran up the shaft. The boy drove his knee into Warmonga's face, stunning his opponent. Ron hopped over her back, morphing the Lotus Blade back to sword form as he dropped to the walkway. Spinning, he chopped through one of Warmonga's ankles. Off balance, the giantess fell off of the walkway and into the flowing seawater. Ron watched, but the woman didn't surface.

Minutes later, Fiske stumbled through the hatch, to fetch him back to the factory.

* * *

Ron and Fiske reached the factory at about the same time as Will Du and his team. Du was all business, putting his medical team to work on the wounded and questioning Ron, Fiske and Drakken. During the questioning, Wade reported that he was trying to deactivate the shock collars.

"So you didn't see her surface?" Du asked Ron.

"No," he answered, sitting next to Kim. "I didn't have the time to jump in and look for her."

"Fair enough," Du told him. "We'll get some teams to search for her. With her wound, I can't picture her getting very far."

The head of the medical team interrupted Du. "Subject Possible and Subject Lipsky need a proper hospital," she reported. "As soon as possible."

"Will Kim survive the trip?" Ron demanded. "Where's the nearest medical facility? How long will it take to get her there?"

"Actually, Ronald," Fiske interrupted him. "The nearest facility is in this building, less than one hundred meters away. Two of your friends are there right now."

"Oh, I forgot about that," Ron muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

"That's fine Ron, you've had a lot on your mind," Du smiled at him. "Now, why don't you and Lord Fiske show us the way there, so that these professionals can get their job done?"

Embarrassed, Ron led Du to the medical facility.

* * *

_A/N:_

_One more chapter to go. Thank you, once again, for taking the time to read my story. _

_I also must thank Joe Stoppinghem for his ongoing beta work._

_Until next time, best wishes;_

_daccu65_


	51. Aftermath and Epilogue

Chapter 51: Aftermath and Epilogue

Aftermath:

The end proved to be wonderfully anti-climatic, at least in Ron's opinion.

First, the shocker collars flew off of Drakken and Motor Ed. Moment's later; Wade called in on the Kimmunicator and informed Ron that he had deactivated the collars. Now that Ed could leave the factory, the team moved Shego, Ed, and Kim to the medical facility. The medical team assured Ron that Kim would be fine, but Ron remained on edge, especially when Shego came to before the other two patients.

"Don't worry, Kid," Shego told him. I'm in no mood to keep fighting and I don't think you are, either. That shot I took to my kidneys is going to have me pissing blood for the next week. I think Monty's taken some damage, as well and Global Justice has us surrounded with agents. Let's just call it a truce and see what happens." Ron was too happy to agree.

Wade called again, telling him that while he hadn't managed to completely deactivate the walkers, he had put them into maintenance mode. As such, the walkers wouldn't attack anybody who approached them. When Ron asked him how bad the damage had been, Wade told him that various governments were still compiling casualty lists and damage reports, but it looked to be worse than the diablo attack.

After that, Ron planted himself at Kim's bedside. A half-hour after they moved her to the medical facility, she woke up. One of the medics gave her a painkiller, so the two teens were able to hold hands and talk quietly until Dr. Director arrived. Global Justice's head wasted no time; she first met with her agents, then met with Kim, Ron and Yori.

"First of all," she began. "I have a request from the Japanese Foreign Ministry to not level any charges against Miss Tanaka. You won't face any fallout from Global Justice, missy, but you're probably going to have some explaining to do when you get home."

Yori flinched.

"Secondly," the older woman continued. "We're going to run a full blood toxicology on Ron. Amy apparently injected him with something and we need to know what it is. The additional doctors I brought along say that this facility has all the equipment they need. I think that we can trust Shego enough to believe her claim that Amy injected her, as well. Perhaps Ron's results will be more revealing."

"Why would that be?" The blonde boy asked.

"Because my Go power completely screws up medical readings," Shego told him, from her wheelchair. Dr. Drakken was pushing the mercenary while Fiske limped along at her side. "Let's just say that I'm more than a little interested."

"Now that the three of you have arrived, it's time to discuss what's to become of you," Dr. Director informed the trio. "Dr. Drakken still has to face trial, and risk facing the death penalty, unless we can come up to some sort of agreement."

"Wait a minute!" Shego protested. "Drew risked his blue butt to reactivate his diablos and use them to fight the invasion! You can't blackmail him now."

"We prefer to call it negotiating from a position of strength," Will Du informed her, arriving on the scene. "Dr. Director, the additional medical personnel will be ready to examine our guests in a few minutes. In the meantime, I think we can come to an agreement with Dr. Drakken, especially since we have a vacancy to fill in Global Justice."

"I like the way you think, Agent Du," Dr. Director smiled.

"What position would that be?" Drakken asked.

"The head of Henchco," Dr. Director informed him.

"What?" Kim, Ron, Shego and Drakken all asked, in unison. Dr. Director and Will Du simply smirked.

"Henchco is a subsidiary of Global Justice?" Dr. Drakken asked, incredulously.

"Of course," Dr. Director told him. "Hencho's purpose is to keep the techno-villain community's attention on complicated, expensive and only partially effective devices. How many weapons could you purchase for the cost of a single mind control chip? How many officials could you bribe for the cost of a juvenator? Jack Hench did a wonderful job keeping international villains wasting their time and resources on these odd contraptions. Also, by unionizing the minions, he kept a large group of potential thugs from performing more violent, criminal activities."

For several minutes, Agent Du and Dr. Director grinned at the dumbfounded others. Finally…

"And you want me to head this organization?" Drakken asked.

"I think you'll do fine," Dr. Director assured him. "But it isn't a walk in the park. You have to turn a profit. Henchco has been one of GJ's major funding sources. That's why we're able to act somewhat independently of the UN."

"I'll do it!" Drakken declared. "I've had this idea for formulating a universal solvent! Unfortunately, I haven't come up with anything to store it in."

Dr. Director left the blue man to his pleasant thoughts and confronted Shego and Fiske.

"Global Justice always pays its debts," she told them. "And we owe the two of you a debt. Still, if you hadn't kidnapped Drakken from the UN, Loward might not have been able to build all this. All said, I think we're even. We'll let you go, as long as you don't get involved with any more 'take over the world' sort of schemes."

"Trust me lady, trying to do it once and then trying to stop it a second time is more than enough for me," Shego quipped.

"We'll drop you off back in South America," Dr. Director offered.

"Huh, wha, why South America?" Shego asked, with a look of false innocence.

"Du…" Director sighed.

Will Du produced an envelope and handed it to Fiske. Fiske opened it and removed a couple of photographs, which he and Shego studied for a moment.

"What is this?" The nobleman asked.

"Doesn't it look familiar to you?" Du asked, his voice full of false politeness.

"It's appears to be a modest, isolated home, located in an area of dense foliage," Fiske answered. "What is it to us?"

"It's the Guatemalan house that the two of you have been living in for the last couple of months," Du pointed out. "After relocating from North Africa."

"Busted," Shego muttered. "How did you…"

"That's for us to know," Du informed her. "What's important for you to know is that we know where you are. We're not that much on common criminals and local laws, so if you want to go back to your smuggling band, fine. In a few years, you'll probably be running the operation. However, the minute you try to take over the world, or even a small country, you'll be getting a visit. Now, do we understand each other?"

"Perfectly," Fiske answered. "We'll be good…er, I should say bad on a small scale."

"And that's good enough for us," Dr. Director told them. "Now, it looks like our experts have this facility fully functional. Let's check everyone out."

The various tests revealed that Kim had four broken ribs and a mild concussion. The doctors bound her ribs and declared that she was fit to travel. Ron had some major bruising and a very minor wound where Amy's needle had stuck him. His toxicology had come up with nothing unusual. Shego had some internal bleeding, which wasn't much of a problem for someone with accelerated healing. Ed was the most seriously wounded, with massive internal injuries. The doctors, however, said that they would be able to stabilize him enough to transport him on Dr. Director's aircraft, along with Kim and Ron.

Yori had decided to stay on the island, watching Felix, until the boy awoke. Ron was torn between staying with his friend and returning home, until Dr. Director made up his mind for him.

"He won't be alone," the efficient woman told the boy. "His girlfriend will be with him the entire time. Your parents are sure to be worried sick, you have final exams to prepare for, and you and Kim are going to have to make statements to multiple investigative agencies. You're needed back home, much more than you're needed here."

"Yeah, but…" Ron started to protest.

"You feel like you're abandoning a friend," Dr. Director finished for him. "I've been there. Let's put it this way, Kim is going to need you, very much, during the next couple of weeks. Are you going to leave her to face the press alone?"

Seeing that Ron was almost convinced, the director played her last card, "besides, whom do you think Felix would rather see first when he wakes up, you or Yori?"

With that comment bringing a smile to his face and being unable to argue with _**that**_ logic, Ron helped Kim board the Global Justice aircraft for the long flight back home.

"Ron," Kim asked her boyfriend, as the pilot revved the engines for takeoff. "What really happened back there? How did you take down the bad guys after I was out?"

"You and Shego had already worn them out," Ron told her. "They were pretty much pushovers at that point."

"That's not true," Kim protested.

"No, it isn't," Ron agreed. "But it's what everyone will believe without asking questions that I'm not ready to answer."

"You _**will**_ tell me the full story, won't you?" She asked, showing just a little bit of the puppy dog pout.

"Once you're better," Ron assured her, as the aircraft lifted into the sky. The blonde boy looked down at the island, which was now swarming with international inspection and law enforcement teams.

The aircraft's noise penetrated into the ocean surrounding the island, disturbing Warmonga. The enhanced woman, wedged safely in an underwater cave, opened her eyes, wondering when the traffic would settle down enough for her to make her escape. How little her antagonists knew about the modifications she made to her own body!

First of all, she had equipped herself with gills; light, feathery gills, which she had extended out of her cave. They weren't efficient gills, they didn't give her enough oxygen to support strenuous activity, but they were sufficient when she stayed at rest.

Secondly, much as with Warrick Loward, she had given herself restructuring cells. As long as she remained alive, her body would seek to regenerate missing appendages. She estimated it would take her two weeks to grow back her missing foot. Of course, she needed a great deal of food to fuel her regeneration and that brought up the third point.

She had designed her digestive track to be ultra efficient. All of the organic matter around her, much of which would be indigestible or even poisonous to a normal human, was nutrition to her. This digestive capability, combined with her enhanced size and strength, meant that the warm, shallow water gave her plenty of food. A tiger shark, attracted to the blood from her wound, had proven both tasty and nutritious.

Finally, Warmonga contemplated her staff. She had no doubt that her antagonists thought that she had injected both Stoppable and the hussy with something. Why would she do something like that? She was a geneticist! Why would she want to inject them, when she could take their very cells?

The tip of her staff weapon held a miniature, cryogenic storage chamber. She didn't know what she would do with Shego's and Stoppable's DNA, but she would think of something.

* * *

Epilogue 1, Graduation Day

"You doing okay, buddy?"

Felix looked back over his shoulder in response to Ron's question.

"Yeah, I guess so."

"You know, we haven't had much of a chance to talk since you got back from the island. Is there anything you want to talk about?"

Ron's statement was correct. Felix had awoken a week after Team Possible foiled Warrick Loward's takeover attack. However, various law-enforcement, political and medical agencies had been questioning them extensively ever since. It wasn't until now, graduation day, that Ron had a chance for a private talk with his friend.

"I could ask you the same thing," Felix pointed out.

Indeed, the last few weeks had been rough on Ron. He felt incredibly guilty that Kim had been badly injured, yet again, during a mission while he himself had emerged relatively unscathed. Yet that wasn't the worst, Ron was absolutely haunted by the sight and feeling of the Lotus Blade, plunging into Warrick Loward's chest.

Ron hadn't wanted to burden Kim with his confession, but his girlfriend knew that something was tearing him up. She had demanded a full account of his actions so he had gathered his 'rents, her 'rents and her around him and had given a blow-by-blow account of the fight. His parents had quickly contacted Global Justice, who had assigned a counselor.

Ron had been meeting the counselor, discreetly, each week. The nightmares had stopped, but he still felt guilty. Somehow, both families realized that the teens needed each other, meaning that Kim and Ron had spent many a night sleeping on her parents' couch. James Possible was strangely comfortable with this sleeping arrangement. Oddly enough, it was Anne Possible that seemed suspicious, but that was only because she was dumbfounded by how fast Kim was healing.

"I'm really sorry Kim missed her competition," Felix's statement intruded on Ron's thoughts. Even with the healing assistance he could offer her, Kim wasn't able to compete at the national competition. Jess had returned to the squad and had done well, but the squad had failed to place.

"It happens," Ron assured his friend. "To be honest, if we weren't looking for you, things would have turned out a whole lot worse." Of course, Ron hadn't been able to tell Felix that he had killed Warrick Loward.

"Anyway," Ron continued. "You've seemed awfully down. That seems a little odd for a guy who can walk again."

"Walking again is completely badical," Felix smiled. "It's what goes with it that's got me worried."

"What's that?"

"Wade's been decrypting Amy's research notes," Felix told his friend. "And she noted, even when she was doing research on monkeys, that her subjects showed increased aggression. It was almost like they had a sense of entitlement."

"I'm not seeing the problem," Ron confessed. "You haven't become aggressive."

"That's not what bothers me," Felix told him. "It's the sense of entitlement. Look, Ron, I know that I'm a smart guy but I feel like…the world owes me something because of it. Have I earned a slot at MIT, or is it the DNA manipulation that makes me feel this way? Should I feel this confident that Yori's going to stay with me, or has the treatment made me think that a gorgeous girlfriend is my due?" The young man took a deep breath, "what happens in the future, when I'm looking for a good job? Will I be able to recognize the opportunities that I've earned, or will I assume that the world owes me every opportunity out there? This sense of entitlement drove Warrick Loward to try to take over the world, what will it do to me?"

"I don't know, Felix," Ron admitted. "But I can say this; I've never met anybody smarter than you. If anybody can figure it out, it's you. You know that I'll always be there, if you need to discuss it."

"I appreciate that," Felix said. "Now, it seems that it's about time for us to line up for our last high school march and we have a couple of very pretty girls who are going to want to dance with us up at the lake tonight."

"Can't keep the ladies waiting," Ron grinned back.

With that, the two friends walked out of the dressing room to take their place in the growing line of seniors.

* * *

"What's the latest, Drew?" Dr. Director asked her new functionary.

"We've re-established eighty percent of Henchco's market," Drakken's voice and visage announced from the screen. "So I'm most hopeful that we'll resume Henchco's previous stature. In addition, we've managed to mass-produce the electronic enhancer, so we should be seeing some impressive profits in the upcoming weeks."

"You've done a good job, Drew. How about your universal solvent project?"

"I've dropped it," Drakken admitted. "I managed to concoct the substance and I can store it in magnetically lined containers, but it proved to be more energetic than I had anticipated. This gives it too much extortion capability, so I've deep-sixed the project."

"Good call," Dr. Director approved. "I assume that you have the research data for me?"

"Absolutely, I'll drop it off tomorrow, during our weekly board game night. If memory serves, it's Risk night."

"That it is, Drew. I'll see you there." Dr. Director smiled; Drakken had insisted on 'game night', once a week. As strange as it seemed, most of Global Justice's major players seemed to get along better because of it. That, and it was always funny when the Secretary General managed to land on Boardwalk.

* * *

Epilogue Two: Nine Years Later

"By order of the Secretary General of the United Nations, Global Justice declares Dr. Betty Director to be retired, and names Will Du as the new head of Global Justice." The spokesman stepped back and Kim and Ron joined in the round of applause.

Global Justice was a very young agency, so nobody had worked out change of command ceremonies yet. Dr. Betty Director had gone for simple and straightforward; she had already cleaned out her office, so she simply removed her nametag from the holder on the door, and applauded while Du inserted his.

"It's all yours now, Will," the former head told her successor. "Good luck."

"Thank you, doctor," Will had promised himself that he would never refer to his former commander by her first name. "I'll try to live up to your standard. Aren't you going to stay for the celebration?"

"No, I'm meeting an old friend. I'll be sure to stop by for coffee, now and again." Will Du saluted Dr. Director, one last time. Betty refused to return the salute, shaking his hand instead.

The aging, but still fit woman waved to the small crowd and walked out of Global Justice Headquarters. There was a stretch limo waiting for her in the parking lot. The driver stepped out and opened one of the back doors for her. She climbed in, accepting the red rose from the man who awaited her.

"So what's the plan, Drew?" She asked.

"Well, you are aware that Henchco made some major property purchases in the last months," Dr. Drakken prompted her.

"Of course," she smiled, contemplating the man from her half-lidded eyes. Over the years, she had grown closer to him, learning to appreciate his genius. For his part, he had grown to admire her dedication and efficiency.

"Well, it turns out that we just couldn't miss the opportunity to purchase my old, Caribbean lair. It will make a wonderful resort, which we'll use as a front for business meetings and distribution. In the meantime, we have a small, caretaker staff and a single, luxury suite."

"So, Dr. Drakken thinks that I could use some sun and pampering to start my retirement?"

"That and, I hope, the companionship."

"Drew, the companionship is what I'm looking forward to the most."

"So am I."

Betty Director had once thought that Global Justice was her entire life, that Dr. Director was all she ever wanted to be. Now, on the way to the airport, she was looking forward to retirement.

* * *

Kim and Ron Stoppable left the celebration early. While they continued to be affiliated with Global Justice, they weren't full members and thought that the later parts of the party, which promised to become wild, were perks for members of that organization. Kim relaxed in the passenger's seat, reviewing her life since high school.

She and Ron had a bit of a fight after graduation. Kim had insisted on staying close to her boyfriend for their secondary education, even though he was afraid that she was holding herself back by doing so. She had finally convinced him that the only thing that would really hold her back was being away from him. In the end, she had obtained a degree in international law and he had obtained a degree international diplomacy.

The years had been good for them, for the most part. They were recognized and admired leaders in their fields and still found time to go out and take down the bad guys on occasion. Ron still had a knack for being ignored by the press and the general public, a trait that he was just fine with. There were a few people who occasionally wondered why someone as beautiful and famous as her would marry and stay with him, but she had learned to not worry about what such people thought. The fact was Ron had always stepped up whenever she was ready for something more from him.

He became her friend when she needed a friend. He became her sidekick when she became a hero. He had become her boyfriend, then her lover, then her husband. The truth of the matter was that he was always there to support her, in whatever role would support her the best. Still, she hoped that he could provide something more.

"Hey KP, would you like to catch a movie, maybe dinner?" His question interrupted her thoughts.

"No, a nice quiet evening at home sounds best to me."

"Anything you say, KP. Hey! It looks like Monique has put out her new, spring line!"

"I'll be sure and try on everything, later," Kim assured him, looking at her friend's store as they drove by.

Store. In reality, the shop was the front for an international apparel superpower. Somehow, Monique and Tara had managed to trade boyfriends, marry them, and still remain friends. It actually worked out well for both women. Josh's artistic abilities enhanced Monique's fashion designs. Kim's former boyfriend had a small studio and was a respected artist in his own right, but he preferred to help Monique thrive.

As far as Monique's old boyfriend, Matt Soley had married Tara shortly after finishing college. While he went into the NFL before obtaining his degree, he went back to school after his rookie season and finished his education. The all-American linebacker had a disappointing professional career, suffering a broken ankle in his third season. The couple had returned to Colorado, where they took over his parents' ranch. Matt managed to find the time to be the assistant coach for the Upperton High football team and Tara had adapted quite well to being a farm wife. The bubbly blonde had produced three children and advised Upperton's cheerleaders.

Their car passed Mickman's Earthmoving, which Oscar Williamsen had recently purchased. Oscar had realized his dream, trading four more years of amateur wrestling for a civil engineering degree. The two-time Colorado State Champion had added three national championships to his 'I love me' wall, but they paled in comparison to his greatest victory. Kim and Ron had made the long, overseas trip to see their friend compete and win under a flag that sported five, interlocked rings. He didn't receive his award from a cheerleader; rather, he received his medal from an Olympic Official before watching his country's flag raised and heard his country's national anthem. It was after he stepped off the podium that a cheerleader mugged him.

Cindy and Oscar had married between their junior and senior years of college. Cindy had a journalism degree and had spent a few years working under Warren's tutelage. She was now a highly respected reporter. Oscar returned to work for Mickman's Earthmoving, dramatically increasing their business. The former high school wrestler donated his time, coaching the Middleton Wrestling Squad. He and Cindy had two daughters, whom Cindy's parents and Oscar's father spoiled on every possible occasion.

Finally, the Stoppables reached their home, just outside the city limits. Kim and Ron weren't exactly rich, but they were clearly wealthy. They had a large house and Kim's only regret was that she had been unable to fill some of the spare bedrooms. It was the injury she had sustained, all those years ago in Wyoming, or the mild infection she hadn't even realized it had caused, that had left her barren. She and Ron had gone to the specialists; her eggs were fertile and Ron's sperm were fine. The only problem was that, according to all of the specialists, it would take a miracle for a zygote to implant.

Last week, she had talked to Monique and had hinted that she wanted to take her friend up on the offer she had made in high school. Kim had no doubt that her friend would honor any request, however, this was such a big decision that she wanted Monique to volunteer again. Instead, she had found out that Monique wouldn't be able to do so, at least for awhile.

"I'm afraid that I can't take on a passenger," Monique had informed her. "I just found out that I already have one!"

Kim had, of course, been delighted at the news. Still, she didn't want to wait for a couple more years. It wasn't that she was all that demanding; simply that this was prime time for her and Ron to reproduce.

Once in the house, Ron chased her out of the kitchen and set about preparing dinner for them. Kim chose to take a warm, leisurely bath. While she was soaking in the soothing waters a certain…possibility…came to her mind.

Finished with her bath, she walked downstairs and by the den, where Rufus was on-line, tangling with Felix at some sort of game. Ron's friend, the human one, had graduated from MIT and had moved to Japan, where he went to work for a robotics company. He had married Yori last year. Yori was, officially, the headmistress of the Yamanouchi, private school. In reality, she was the head of the Yamanouchi ninja, a highly capable ninja in her own right, and one of Japan's greatest intelligence resources. Kim kept in contact with Yori mainly because Ron kept in almost constant contact with Felix. The video game company got a great deal of good marketing from the two young men; one of the worlds most respected negotiators and one of the worlds most respected robotics engineers played their game at least twice a week.

"Eat lightly," she told her husband, who was setting the table for three. "I'd kind of like to indulge tonight." She followed her statement with a slightly demure look at him; the kind that she knew absolutely melted him.

* * *

"Link with me?" Kim requested, cuddled up with her husband after 'indulging.'

"Are you injured?" Ron asked her.

"No," she told him. "But it's something very important to me."

Several visits to Yamanouchi had given Kim the ability to attain a meditative state in which she and Ron could link minds. While she still couldn't perform the analogy-healing on her own, she no longer had to be asleep for Ron to link minds with her and help her perform it. This healing was one of the Mystical Monkey Power's aspects, so Ron was careful to not use it frivolously. Still, he trusted Kim completely, so when she asked him to 'link', he agreed.

Kim focused on calming her mind (something she found very easy when cuddled up with her husband) and found her center. Soon, the mental analogies of her and Ron were standing on an infinite, blank plain.

"What do you have in mind, KP?" Dream-Ron asked her.

"You'll see," she replied, with a mysterious smile on her lips. She concentrated a little more and the two were soon standing in a familiar room.

"This is one of our spare rooms," Dream-Ron declared. He looked around, confused, seeing that it had been furnished to act as a nursery. Dream-Kim was holding a white sphere, about the size of a volleyball. There were faint features on the sphere, which looked vaguely like Kim's face. Smaller spheres, about the size of golf balls, were floating around the room, propelled by whip-like tails. At first, Ron was confused by this analogy but then he caught his breath, suspecting that Kim…

Dream-Kim caught one of the smaller spheres. Now that he was able to get a closer look, he realized that this smaller sphere also had faint features, looking a little like his own face. Dream-Kim pressed the two spheres together; the smaller sphere slid inside the larger, leaving its tail behind. Dream-Kim placed the larger sphere in the crib, tucking it in with a contented smile.

"KP, did you just…?" Dream-Ron left the question hanging.

"Yes," she answered, stepping back towards him. "You don't think this is a frivolous use of the MMP, do you?"

"KP," he replied, stepping forward to smile down and the crib's contents. "I don't think it's possible to get farther away from frivolous. Are you sure you're ready for this?"

"So more than ready. Are you okay with this?"

"Of course, would it be wrong to say that I love you now?"

"So not wrong," she paused. "Tell me in person?"

Moments later, Kim opened her eyes to find herself in her own bed, with her husband spooned up behind her. She turned around so that she could kiss him. It wasn't a passionate kiss; those had been shared earlier. Instead, it was a loving, accepting kiss. One that told both of them that they fully supported the commitment they had just made.

Breaking the kiss, Kim snuggled back into Ron and drifted off to sleep, enfolded in her husband's embrace and basking in his warmth. She may not have any 'happy accidents,' but with her husband's help, she had overcome another obstacle. She couldn't wait until they could tell their 'rents that the first grandchild was on the way.

**_The end._**

* * *

_A/N:_

_Picture a stage, somewhere in the virtual reality that is fanfiction. A chubby, boring, middle-aged man walks out upon this stage and addresses the audience._

"_Ladies and gentlemen," he says. "My name is daccu65, and I'd like to thank each and every one of you for reading my little tale. Before I say anything else, I'd like to ask for a round of applause for my beta reader, Joe Stoppinghem. If you're here, Joe, please stand up." Daccu65 waits an appropriate interval for applause._

"_Like I said before," he continues. "I'd like to take this opportunity to thank each and every one of you who has taken the time to read my tale. As this was only my second, multi-chapter story, I realize that it was more than a little rough around the edges, so I really appreciate those of you who bore with me."_

"_Secondly, I'd like to express my appreciation to everyone who sent me reviews and/or private messages. The encouragement and/or corrections were invaluable."_

"_Finally, I'd like to let everyone know that I'm going to be taking a little bit of time off from writing KP tales. I have some beta commitments that I've let sit for too long and I'd like to take a crack at a story, based on the 'Underworld' movies. I'll still be reading and reviewing fairly frequently, so if anybody has a plot bunny to discuss or wants some input, I'll be around. I don't know how long I'll be working at my other story, or if I'll give up before it's done. I'd just like all of you to know that it has been a joy to write for such a supportive audience."_

"_Thanks again and, until we meet again, best wishes."_

_With that, daccu65 bows and exits, stage left._


End file.
